


The Things I'd Do For You

by jonius_belonius (Joni_Beloni)



Series: Road to Perdition [1]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Partner Violence, Prison, Season 6 Spoilers, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:18:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7837282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joni_Beloni/pseuds/jonius_belonius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike agrees to Frank Gallo's demands to protect Harvey and others that he cares for.  Harvey seduces Sean Cahill and manipulates him to facilitate Mike's release.  They both do what they have to do to get back to each other, but in the end, have they gone too far to salvage a happily-ever-after with one another?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Capitulation

**Author's Note:**

> And so the Road to Perdition begins ... or continues ... or something. Expect a lot of bad behavior in this series. And smut.

In the end, capitulation became Mike’s only option. 

Despite his best intentions, he couldn’t keep his eye on Kevin every second of every day.  Gallo and his goons had gotten to him three times now, and the last time had put Kevin in the infirmary.  Mike was faced with the stark realization that if he didn’t agree to Gallo’s terms, Kevin might not make it home to his family.

In spite of the threat to Kevin, Mike would have continued to hold out.  Then Gallo showed him the pictures on his contraband cell phone, sent to him from someone on the outside, of Rachel on campus, and of Harvey outside his building, Harvey at the hot dog cart, Harvey heading into the courthouse, Harvey sharing a drink with Sean Cahill in the bar across from the courthouse, his head tipped back mid-laugh. 

Mike caught sight of the anger in Gallo’s eyes – anger, and something more – and it finally made sense.  It hit him so hard, he had to struggle not to let it show on his face.  Mike now understood the source and the depth of Gallo's animosity toward Harvey, even if he suspected that Gallo did not.

Gallo was not simply angry that Harvey had succeeded in putting him away.  He was jealous – of Mike, and Cahill, and anyone else to whom Harvey gave his attention.  He couldn’t personally get to Harvey, and he couldn’t get to Cahill, but Mike was right here, within arm’s reach.

In a weird way, Mike also understood Harvey better now.  Gallo was using Mike to get to Harvey.  Now Gallo was using Kevin, and Rachel, and Harvey to get to Mike.  Frank Gallo might not be a Harvard educated lawyer – or even a fake Harvard educated lawyer – but he’d mastered the art of pressing until it hurt, and then pressing some more, until he got what he wanted.

What Gallo thought he wanted, it turned out, was Mike.

******

“Promise me,” Mike insisted again, “that you’ll back off Kevin.”

Gallo had bribed his favorite guard, arranging for time alone with Mike in his cell.  Kevin was still in the infirmary, and they were alone.  He’d wasted no time, pushing Mike to his knees and unfastening his own pants.  “We’ve been over this.  Quit stalling.”

“And he’ll never find out about this.”  Mike had been trying to maintain eye contact, but it became impossible with Gallo's cock waving at him, so close to his mouth.  “Or Harvey.”  _Especially not Harvey_ , he added in his head. 

“Normally,” said Gallo, “I’d be impressed with your spirit, kid.  Right now, it’s starting to piss me off.  Our deal is clear.  Negotiation time is over, and your down payment is due.  Put your mouth on me now, or it’s off.”

This wasn’t Mike’s first blowjob, and so it wasn’t Gallo’s cock that was hard to swallow, it was being coerced in this way.  Mike took a moment to again consider all of the lives he would be protecting, and it became easier.  He laid the flat of his tongue on the underside, testing Gallo's flavor, and licked delicately up to the tip.

“Fucking tease,” murmured Gallo, sounding almost fond.  “We don’t have all night.  Get on with it.”

_This time,_ Mike corrected internally.  They didn’t have all night this time, but he didn’t doubt that Gallo could swing that if he chose to.  He leaned forward and closed his mouth around Gallo’s cock, which was of average length, but thick.  _A nice mouthful,_ thought Mike, surprising himself.  Not too much to handle, but enough to feel stuffed full, just the way he liked.  He swallowed him all the way down and applied suction.  Gallo’s hands cradled his head, and he jerked his hips, not too hard, not more than Mike could handle.

“Play with my balls.”  Gallo’s voice was hoarse and strained.

Mike eased Gallo’s pants and underwear lower and cradled his balls, squeezing lightly and massaging them with his thumbs.  Above him, Gallo groaned, long and heartfelt.   

“Shit, kid.  You’re good.”  His thrusts became more forceful.  “Tell me the truth:  you ever do this for Harvey?  Ah.  Careful with the teeth.  Yeah, that’s better.  That’s good.” 

Mike wished Gallo would just be quiet, so he could shut off his brain.  Hearing Harvey’s name with his mouth full of Gallo’s cock was the last thing he could have wished for.  Gallo jammed deep, and held, choking Mike.  He made a guttural sound of distress, grabbing for Gallo’s hips.  Unexpectedly, Gallo eased off and petted Mike’s head.

“Sorry kid.  That just feels so fucking good.  Keep going.  Finish me off.”

If Mike’s mouth had been free, he might have growled in annoyance.  He turned his growl into a hum, which he sustained until he heard Gallo’s breathless curse.  Pulling up, and keeping the head of Gallo’s cock in his mouth, he tongued the sensitive spot he’d located on the underside, while palming his shaft and stroking roughly.

Gallo’s hands tightened on his head, and his hips jerked convulsively.  At the first burst of salty moisture on his tongue, Mike might have pulled off, but Gallo displayed his strength, holding Mike in place, and forcing him to either swallow or let cum slide down his chin and onto his shirt.  Mike chose to swallow, even though his stomach threatened to heave and send it all back up.  He managed somehow, and finally it was over. 

Gallo’s spent cock slid from his lips, and he pulled up his pants and tucked himself back inside.  He thumbed Mike’s mouth, a tender gesture that seemed more obscenely out of place than anything else they'd done so far.

Mike turned his head to the side.  “Gallo …” 

“Call me ‘Mr. Gallo’.”

Mike gave a disbelieving laugh.  “What?  I don’t think so.”  He shifted, preparing to rise to his feet, but Gallo set a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stay down, unless he chose to put up a fight.

“Say it.  Thank me.  That’s all I want to hear.  Say, “thank you, Mr. Gallo’.  Do that, and we’re done for the night.”

The strange thing was, this proved more difficult than swallowing the man’s dick.  Mike rapidly reviewed all of the reasons he had agreed to this:  Kevin, Rachel, Harvey.  Mostly Harvey.  Harvey, who Gallo wanted, but would never have.  Harvey, who Mike also wanted.  That little bit of self-revelation had occurred the day he was supposed to marry Rachel.  It was Harvey that had seen him to the entrance of the prison, and it was Harvey who drove up here to see him, over and over again.  He’d already decided to break it off for good with Rachel, just as soon as she showed up in person to visit him.  It was three weeks, and he was still waiting.

“Mike …”  Gallo interrupted his thoughts. 

What did it matter?  He could play Gallo’s sick little game for now, and then he’d get his own revenge on Gallo with Harvey.  If Harvey would have him.  He sighed and met Gallo’s expectant gaze.  “Thank you, Mr. Gallo.”

“My pleasure.”  Gallo laughed, a poisonous sound.  “Most definitely my pleasure.  Until next time.”

He left Mike where he was, kneeling on the cold floor.

******

“What’s wrong with you?”  Harvey paced in front of the table in the visitor’s room, as heartbreakingly perfect as always in his beautiful grey suit.  He stopped his restless movement and frowned at Mike.  “I just told you that Sean thinks Kevin is about to crack and turn on Sutter, and you’re acting like you couldn’t care less.”

_Sean?_

Mike shifted in the uncomfortable chair, staring down at the table, unable to meet Harvey’s gaze.  “I care, Harvey.  You wouldn’t believe how badly I want to get out of here.  It’s hard to be happy about Kevin putting his family at risk, that’s all.  He took his deal to protect his wife, just like I did to protect you.”  He blushed as it occurred to him how that might be construed.

Expression softening, Harvey sat in the chair across from Mike.  “Sean has agreed to grant her immunity.”

Again with the “Sean.”  Mike couldn’t resist a snarky comment.  “Sounds like you and Cahill are getting along like a house on fire.”  He’d only meant it as a joke, but regretted it when he saw the shutters go down over Harvey’s eyes. 

Harvey shrugged.  “He’s been extraordinarily cooperative.  Turns out, we have a lot in common.”

Mike felt sick at that admission.  He hated thinking about Harvey and “Sean” bonding over this case.  “Is that so?  Like what?  Movies?  Pizza?  Do you two sit around and get high together?”

Harvey stared at him, expression incredulous.  “Are you actually jealous of Sean?”

Mike swallowed hard, knowing he looked sullen, but unable to laugh it off. 

“Mike …”  Harvey pinched his lips together.  “If Sean believes certain … things … to be true, that only helps your case.  I’ll eat as many pizzas as I have to, or shoot as many games of pool.”

“You play pool with him too?  My god, are you dating Sean Cahill?”

Now Harvey seemed too angry for words.  He glared at Mike.

He hadn’t denied the accusation though, and this cut Mike straight to his heart.  “Well.  Kudos.  He seems like a decent match.  Quite the catch.  Must get rocky sometimes, two type A assholes trying to make a go of it in this crazy world.”

“God damn it, Mike.  It’s not like that.”

Mike had been joking – mostly joking – but this sent a chill through him.  “It’s not … Wow.  What is it like?”

Jaw tightening, Harvey stared at the table, at the wall, anywhere but at Mike.  “I’d do anything to get you out of here.  Don’t you understand that yet?  Anything.  I read people for a living, and if Sean was foolish enough to reveal his feelings for me, I’d have to be an idiot not to take advantage of that, wouldn’t I?”

Mike took a few seconds to parse Harvey’s words, certain of what he’d heard, but disbelieving just the same.  “You’re fucking him.”

He regretted his bluntness when he saw the miserable look on Harvey’s face.  “For you, Mike.  Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.”

Mike felt sicker than ever.  He’d submitted to his own devil’s bargain with Gallo, but the thought of Harvey and Cahill together … Who fucked who, he wondered.  Did they trade off?  Did they cuddle afterwards, or lie in bed sipping scotch and trading secrets?  He pictured them in his mind, thick, muscular bodies straining together, clutching at one another with strong hands, cursing hoarsely in unison as they came, sheened with sweat. 

He hated himself a little for these imaginings.  After what he’d done, and now knowing what Harvey had done, would they even have a chance at anything, if and when he got out?

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice subdued.  “You shouldn’t have done that.  I wish you hadn’t.  I’m grateful, though.  For everything.” 

Harvey made a sound in the back of his throat, which Mike couldn’t interpret.  “Forget about all that.  It's not important.  Let’s just focus on getting you out of here.”

They spent perhaps another fifteen minutes discussing strategies, and somehow Mike managed to stay focused and even contribute intelligently to the conversation. 

And then, “How’s Gallo been?” Harvey asked.

Mike went cold all over.  There was no way Harvey could have known, but even the possibility knocked the breath out of him.  “What do you mean?  He’s been fine.”

Harvey eyed him closely, but nodded as if he believed him.  “Good.  He must want to get out of here more than he wants to get to me.”

“That must be it.”  Mike thought about the pictures of Harvey that Gallo’s associate on the outside had taken.  He remembered that look Gallo had when he spoke of Harvey, and he grew even more depressed.  Damn it all anyway, did everyone lust after Harvey?  Had Mike ever stood a chance with him?  “Thanks for fixing that for me.  It's really improved things in here.”  The lie rolled easily off his tongue, even as he cringed inside.

“Tell me right away if anything changes.”

Mike nodded listlessly.  “I will.  But look, Harvey, you can’t keep running up here every time something happens.  This case isn’t bringing you any fees.  Don’t you need to spend some time on actual paying clients?”

“You let me worry about that.”

“It’s just … I’ve settled in.  I’m okay.  I want you to stop worrying about me.”  _Worry about yourself._ “Maybe limit yourself to a visit or two a month.”

Harvey gave him a funny look.  “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”  His jaw worked, as if he was deciding whether or not to say something.  “My thing with Cahill … it’s a convenience mainly.  It doesn’t mean anything.  He knows that.”

Mike held up his hands.  “Hey, none of my business.”

“Hm.  Well, I’ll get out of your hair.  Call me if you need anything.  Will you do that?”

“Of course.”

Mike watched Harvey stand up and walk to the door, hating how unhappy he seemed to have made him, and a lump formed in his throat as he wondered how long it would be before he saw him again. 

******

Gallo turned on the lights in what Mike had assumed was a supply closet, gesturing for him to enter first.  Empty shelving stood on either side of the doorway.  The rest of the small space was taken up with a bed.

“See?  I told you’d I’d figure something out.”

Mike gave an unenthused nod.  “I never doubted you for a second.  How long do we – ”  He spun around as he heard the door close and lock behind him.  “ – have,” he finished.

“All night.”  Gallo reached into his pocket and pulled out lube and condoms.  “Look who came prepared.”

“Look, Gallo.”  Mike saw Gallo open his mouth to correct him, and held up a hand to stop him.  “No.  I’m not playing that game again.  It’s either Gallo or Frank.  You choose.”

Gallo stepped up to him, no doubt trying to appear menacing.  The effect was spoiled slightly by the height difference.  Mike topped him by about three inches.  Gallo tilted his head to one side and thrust his jaw forward, pugnacious and ready for a fight.  “I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to, kid.”

“I’m really not.  How could I?  Jesus, Gallo, I’m here.  I’ve agreed to your fucking bargain.  I’ve already given you what I have every reason to believe was a more than passable blowjob.  And here I am, offering my ass up to you on the proverbial platter.  Why are you trying to debase me further?  I mean, I’m already pretty thoroughly debased by this whole situation, wouldn’t you agree?”

Gallo stared at him a few seconds longer, and then broke into a smile, nodding slowly.  “I’ve said it before, but I do like your spirit.  You’ve got some cojones on you, that’s for sure.  Okay, I’ll concede the point.  In this room – and only in this room – you can call me Frank.”

All things considered, it didn’t feel like much of a victory, but Mike gave what he hoped was a gracious nod.  “Okay, Frank, how is this going to go?”

“Oh, I think you know how it goes."  His eyes narrowed.  "Hold on.  You have done this before, right?”

“I have not.”

“But the other day …”

Mike shrugged.  “College.”  He smirked.  “Just the introductory courses.”

Gallo took a slow walk around Mike, seeming to size him up.  “So, what, you’re expecting me to give you some kind of initiation?  All gentle and tender like?”

It was a struggle not to react, and to keep his expression neutral.  “No, not that.  But you’re smart enough to realize that if you really injure me, and I have to have a doctor take a look at me, playtime is over.”  He let that sink in for a few seconds.  “On the other hand, if you keep the rough stuff to a minimum, I’ll give you everything you want, as willingly as I can.”

Gallo nodded his approval.  “I’ll behave.”  His hands went to the buttons of his shirt.  “Get undressed.  Like I said, we’ve got all night.  I want to see if I can make you scream.”  He laughed at the look on Mike’s face.  “In a good way, Mike.  In a good way.”

******

Despite Mike's objections – or perhaps because of them – Gallo left the lights on.  When they were both naked, he pointed at the bed and put Mike on his knees, before sitting behind him.  “I assume you know the basics?” he asked Mike.

“Um, yeah.  I know my porn.”

“So first we loosen you up.  To start with, you're going to get my finger.”

Mike jumped at the feel of the cold, wet digit.

“Settle.  It’s okay.  Try to relax.”

“You’re asking a lot.”

“It’s for your own good.  Relax and everything will go easier.”

Mike nodded his understanding and took a series of slow, deep breaths.  “Do it.”

Gallo’s finger massaged his entrance.  Mike closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his arms, trying not to think beyond the moment, or beyond simple sensation.  Gallo didn’t do anything for several minutes beyond the easy, careful touch.  Mike breathed out slowly.  It didn’t feel bad.  It felt … nice.  He shifted, moving his ass in a tight circle, chasing the finger.

“Patience, boy,” Frank whispered.  “I’m coming inside now.”

Maybe Frank was trying to go slow, but Mike still jumped and tensed up when the fingertip pushed into his tight entrance, meeting resistance.  “Ah!  Fuck.”

“We’re getting there,” said Frank on a breathless laugh.  “What'd I say, though?  Relax for me, kid.” 

Mike tried.  It felt so weird, though.  Weird and wrong.  Frank forced his finger in further, making Mike grunt.  Recalling the girth of Frank’s cock caused him to tense up even more.  He began to perspire.  “I don’t know,” he got out.  “I don’t think I can do this.”

He felt Frank shift positions behind him, and then he was on top of Mike, legs bracketing Mike’s, finger still lodged inside of him.  His warm breath hit Mike’s ear as he spoke to him.  “I think you’ll have to.  It’s not rocket science.  It’s sex.  Relax.  Breathe in.  Hold it.  Now breathe out.  Do it again.  And again, and this time unclench your muscles.  That’s it.  You’ve got this.  Stay just like that, and let me play with you for a few minutes.”

Incapable of speech in that moment, Mike nodded jerkily.  With one finger, Frank probed in and out, slow and exploratory.  Mike bit down hard on his lower lip.  All he could think was, _Frank Gallo has his finger inside of me.  Frank Gallo has his finger in my ass and it burns like a sonofabitch._

Then Frank changed the angle, or bent his finger, or Mike didn’t know what, but evidently he had located Mike’s prostate.  “God,” Mike choked out.  “Oh my fucking god.”  And just like that, the burning pressure morphed into hot, dark screaming pleasure.  “Right there.  Right fucking there.”

Frank chuckled, a smug, satisfied sound, and finger-fucked him harder.  “There?  You like that, huh?  I figured you might.  If you like that, maybe you’ll like this even more.”

The pressure increased, and Mike realized Frank now had two fingers inside him, pumping away.  Mike couldn’t help himself.  He moaned, long and loud, and rocked his hips back to meet Frank’s fingers.

“You ready for the real thing, Mike?”

Mike shuddered.  They were really doing this.  He was about to get his cherry popped by Frank Gallo, murderer, criminal, arch-enemy of Harvey Specter.  “Yeah,” he breathed.  “I’m ready.”

A pause in the proceedings as Frank prepared himself with condom and lube.  “I feel like I’m repeating myself here,” he told Mike, “but relax, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Despite his whispered acquiescence, Mike tensed up again when he felt the head of Frank’s cock press against his entrance.  So far, the whole experience had felt surreal.  This, though, this was too real.  He wondered wildly if it was too late to beg for a reprieve, to offer Frank anything but this.   He searched for words, but all that came out was a raspy, “Please …”

“Mm.  Begging is nice.  I like that.”  His cock head pushed inside of Mike.  “Beg some more for me.”

_Please go away.  Please get out of me.  Please leave me the same way that you found me._ “Please.”  He gasped as Frank slid all the way in.  And then he wasn’t sure what he wanted, for him to stay still, or to start moving. 

“Please, what?” Frank whispered, running his fingers through Mike’s hair and kissing the side of his neck. 

“Please,” he repeated, and swallowed several times.  “Just fuck me.”

He’d meant that he just wanted to get it over with, but Frank took it as encouragement.  He pulled halfway out, and thrust back in.  “You, young Mike Ross …”  He repeated the action with greater force.  “You have got one tight little ass.”  And now he found a steady rhythm, slow and rocking.

Mike kept his elbows on the bed, but lifted his head, as if that would help him catch a decent breath.  He hated how good this felt.  Liking it so much made him feel ashamed.  He gulped air, which ended up sounding like an aborted sob.  Behind him, Frank paused, sunk all the way inside of him, as if trying to decide if he should care about Mike’s apparent discontent.  One hand crept underneath Mike to palm his cock, which was half-hard.  He played with him and stroked him until he grew hard and heavy, and he was moaning without reserve at the pleasurable sensations.  Too soon, Frank removed his hand.

“Take over,” Frank urged him, as he started moving again, fingertips digging into Mike's hips.  “Go.  I got no objections to you getting off too.  You coming on my cock is gonna feel great.”

_Fantastic,_ thought Mike, but he did as Frank had instructed, wrapping his hand around his own cock and jerking off.  Frank redoubled his efforts, slamming into Mike with hard, rapid stabs, shaking the bed, and banging the frame against the wall. 

Everything about this was wrong, thought Mike dimly, but it felt so fucking wonderful.  His hand sped up just as Frank started hitting his prostate again.  Mike threw his head back and shuddered, and then a surprised yell erupted from his throat, and he hollered his release as he came and came. 

For long minutes after Mike's last convulsion had faded, Frank continued to pump away enthusiastically.  Finally, he froze, arms strangling Mike's middle, mouthing Mike’s shoulder as if he’d had plenty of practice muffling the sound of his orgasms.  At the last moment, with his hips stuttering wildly, he lifted his head and ground out, " _fuck yeah,"_ through his teeth.  He collapsed on top of Mike, flattening him against the bed. 

Mike felt incapable of movement, and lay passively as Frank pulled out, disposed of the condom, turned off the light and settled behind him, pulling a rough blanket up over them.

"Be ready to go again in a couple of hours," said Frank, on a yawn. 

Mike grunted.  "I'll blow you.  Not sure my ass can take anymore right now."

"Sure.  That works for me.  I did go at you pretty hard.  Now shut up and go to sleep."

Mike let out a humorless chuff of laughter.  He closed his eyes, but sleep was a long time coming.

******

Frank Gallo was a cuddler.  More accurately, he was a mutant cephalopod with eight thousand arms and legs that Mike could not escape, no matter how much he shifted and squirmed, or how many elbows he threw to discourage him.  Gallo also gave off heat like a furnace.  Mike would have preferred to sleep on the cement floor, but was not given the choice.  Weariness finally made him give in to the inevitable, and he fell into an uneasy sleep.

When Frank shook him awake in the early hours of the morning, Mike sleepily readjusted his position, lying with his face in Frank's lap, and his cock in his mouth.  This blowjob was not his best work, but considering he was half-asleep, he did all right.  Frank didn't complain.  He lay back with one arm bent behind his own head, and his other hand tangling in Mike's hair, making low, soft noises of satisfaction.

Frank came, Mike swallowed, and then fell back to sleep right where he was, with his head on Frank's thigh, and the taste of him on his tongue. 

When he woke up the next time, it was morning, and Frank was gone.

******

Gallo did not send for Mike every night.  Evidently not even he could get away with such flagrant rule breaking more than once or twice a week.  Their second – rendezvous? tryst? fuck session? Mike couldn't even put a name to it – went much the same as the first time, except that Gallo woke up two times during the night and fucked Mike a total of three times.

A part of Mike whispered that he should feel more appalled than he did, but the situation simply did not allow for that.  He was in survival mode, struggling to maintain whatever small amount of control he could.  Capitulation meant consent – sort of – which by extension meant that he was not a victim, or so he told himself.

The mind-blowing sex only served to confuse things further. 

Gallo could have made their nights together completely hellish, but he seemed to approve of Mike's "spirit," as he liked to refer to it, and their encounters quickly settled into something which felt like vigorous, recreational buddy fuck territory.  Enemies with benefits.

Deep down, Mike knew that when he walked out of prison a free man – which shouldn't be too much longer, he hoped – reality would come crashing down on his head.  He'd face that when the time came.  Maybe he'd get lucky, and the reality avalanche would not crush him into dust.

******

When Mike returned to his cell the morning after his second night with Gallo, doing his damnedest to walk normally despite the deep ache inside of him, Kevin was back from the infirmary, sitting up in bed and staring at the pictures of his family.

"Where have you been?" he asked Mike, barely looking up, and not sounding interested in the answer.

"When did you get back?" Mike countered.

"Half an hour ago."  He lifted his gaze and seemed to really look at Mike now.  "You look like shit, Mike."

"Says the guy with the black eye and butterfly bandage on his nose."

"Whatever.  Seriously, though.  You okay?"

"Never better."

Kevin didn’t press him any further, and they both dropped the subject.

******

The next day, Harvey came to visit Kevin.  Mike went to his job in the kitchen, peeling vegetables with hands that shook from jittery excitement.  The only thing which made Harvey's visit make sense was that Kevin had agreed to take Cahill's deal and testify against Sutter.  Which meant – which _had_ to mean – that Mike would be getting out of here soon.

Gallo put in an appearance in the kitchen.  He couldn't seem to go a full day without checking up on Mike. 

"I saw Harvey come in."  He watched Mike's face with an intensity that made him nervous.  "And yet, here you are."

"Here I am."  He gave Gallo a tight-jawed facsimile of a smile and kept peeling.

"My guys tell me he's meeting with your roommate.  What's the matter?  You're not his number one boy any longer?"

"How should I know?  Harvey picks his own clients."

"Oh.  He's a client now, is he?"  Gallo laughed meanly.  "The mighty really have fallen if Harvey Specter has been reduced to trolling for clients here at Danbury."

"Whatever.  I'm kind of busy here, so … "

"When Harvey's done with your pal Kevin, he's taking a meeting with me.  The way I see it, I should be out of here by the end of the week.

Mike froze for half a second.  Did Gallo actually believe that?  He resumed peeling.  "Good for you."

Eyes shifty, Gallo glanced around the vicinity, and then edged closer to Mike, dropping his voice to a whisper.  "I’ll bet you're going to miss what I been giving you.  You'll get over me, though.  And we'll have one more night together tonight, to make sure you never forget the feel of Frank Gallo inside you."  He smirked, licked his lips, and turned to go, but Mike grabbed his arm, halting him.

"Kevin is back," he whispered urgently.  "I can't just disappear all night.  He's going to ask questions."

Gallo shrugged.  "I could put him back in the infirmary for you."

"No!"

"Keep your fucking voice down."

"Nobody touches Kevin again.  That was the agreement."

Gallo stared at him for several seconds, and shook his head as if he could not believe Mike.  "You're something else, kid.  It's like you have this crazy need to sacrifice yourself to get everyone else out of trouble.  You should maybe see somebody about that."

"It's about loyalty," Mike muttered, peeling and peeling the same carrot until it collapsed into a shredded mess. 

"Yeah, you got plenty of that.  Too bad you ain't got nobody to give you back the same.  If you did, you wouldn’t be in here, and you never would have gotten mixed up with a bastard like me."

Mike had no ready response to Gallo's astounding analysis of him, but it turned out to be unnecessary.  Gallo left him standing there with his mouth hanging open.

******

Kevin showed up to the kitchen half an hour later.  He made no comment, and did not fill Mike in on what had happened with Harvey.  As the last worker to arrive, Kevin was tasked with scrubbing the large pots used for breakfast.  Mike shot him occasional glances where he was bent over the industrial sized sink.  He had just decided to go over and ask him point blank what was going on, but one of the guards entered the kitchen and gestured at Mike.  He knew better by now than to ask where they were going.  The CO's, he had discovered, tended to grow cranky at even the slightest challenge to their authority.

He was unsurprised when he was led to the visitor's room and Harvey.  Gallo exited, giving Mike a casual salute.  Mike went in and sat down in the chair warmed up for him by Gallo.

"You're building up quite the prison practice," commented Mike.  "How do you bill this, though?  One carton of cigarettes per hour?"

Harvey ignored his weak attempt at humor, and cut straight to the chase.  "Kevin took the deal."

"And?"

"And after Cahill files the paperwork, I expect to have you out of here by the end of the week."

All of the air left Mike's lungs.  He sagged in the chair, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on the heels of his hands as he digested the news.  "I don't believe it," he murmured.  "How did you even …?"  He raised his head to look at Harvey, and mirrored the smile that seemed to split Harvey's face in half.  "You're amazing.  I thought I was pretty hot shit as a lawyer, but I never could, and never will, hold a candle to you."

Harvey lifted one shoulder in a modest shrug.  "How did I do it?  Well, I'll tell you:  I took a page out of the Mike Ross playbook and never gave up, and never stopped fighting for my client."

"So … tell me everything.  What's going to happen to Kevin?  And to his wife?"

"Sean agreed to immunity for her, and time served for Kevin if he tells them everything he knows."

"Impressive.  How did you get Cahill to go for that?"  As soon as the question was out of his mouth, he wished he could take it back.  He had far too many explicit guesses as to how Harvey might have convinced Cahill.

Harvey didn't answer him, and Mike realized that he was staring at Mike’s neck – right at the spot where Gallo had latched onto him the last time they'd been together.  At least the mark had had a day to fade.  Seeking to distract Harvey, and prevent him from asking any uncomfortable questions, Mike struck first.

"What did you have to say to Gallo?"

"I told him that he was getting out of here next week."

Mike lifted one eyebrow.  "Is there going to be anyone left in this place after you get done working your magic?"

"I said that's what I told him.  I never said it was the truth."

Mike barked out a surprised laugh.  "You lied to your own client?"

"Oh, he hasn't been my client since about two seconds after Kevin gave me his answer.  I’ll get around to passing that along to Gallo eventually."

"Then why – "

"Leverage.  To insure that he leaves you alone until you walk out the front door."

That made sense.  Mike understood Harvey's reasoning, but he grew uneasy as he thought about those candid shots of Harvey.  With Mike and Kevin gone, and Gallo betrayed, how might he retaliate against Harvey?  Or Rachel, for that matter?  Or Mike? 

Mike wanted to put this place behind him for good.  He didn't need that threat hanging over them all.

"I don’t know.  Maybe …  Is there anything stopping you or Gallo's next attorney from petitioning for his release?"

"Mike, he's a murderer.  He deserves to rot.  But to answer your question, no, there is nothing stopping him from getting out, but I don't intend to gift him with that information.  I choose not to be a part of unleashing him back on the world, especially since it's now no longer necessary."

Mike changed the subject after that.  He'd gotten what he wanted.  He knew what he needed to do.  Hopefully Harvey would never find out.

******

Mike approached Gallo's pet guard and informed him that he would need his help getting out of his cell for the night, if he was going to do it without Kevin asking too many dangerous questions.  The guard came for him after dinner, with the story that he’d landed in solitary again.  Since Kevin had been out of it for a few days in the infirmary, and couldn’t know exactly what Mike had done or hadn’t done, it made the lie easier to pass off.  In any case, Kevin was too distracted by his own situation to show much interest.

Gallo was waiting for him in “their” room, and his face broke into a grin when Mike walked in.  “I been thinking about this all day,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head, not bothering with the buttons.  “We won’t have many more of these nights.  That probably makes you happy to hear.”

“Look, Frank …”

“Get undressed.”

Mike’s hands went to the buttons of his shirt, and he worked them open.  “I think you should get a new lawyer.”

“What for?  Harvey is doing more than my old guy ever did.  And I get a real charge out of making him help me, of all people.”

“Listen to me.  I know Harvey.  I worked with him for five years.  Do you really believe it’s ever that simple with him?  One way or another, he imposes his will.  He’s five steps ahead of everyone else.  You may think you’re playing a decent game on him, but while you’re playing checkers, he’s kicking your ass at three-dimensional chess, and you won’t even know it until it’s too late.”

“You saying I’m stupid?”

Mike laughed at that.  He wasn’t saying that, and he didn’t think it.  “No.  Not at all.  But if Harvey can finagle a way to get what he wants, and screw you over at the same time, he will.  Don’t take the chance.  Find someone else.  If you want, I’ll even map out a strategy for them.”

Frank stepped out of his pants and advanced on Mike, head tilted to one side.  “Sounds like you know something.  What aren’t you telling me?”

Mike did not retreat, and maintained eye contact with Frank.  “Get a new lawyer.  Period.  End of story.”

Frank pointed at him, as if about to say more, but then seemed to change his mind, laughing and seeming to dismiss the topic from his mind. 

Naked, he stepped right up to Mike.  He tugged off Mike’s unbuttoned blue work shirt and threw it towards the door.  Grasping the hem of the white, long-sleeved undershirt, he ordered, “Raise your arms.”  When Mike complied, Frank whisked the shirt over his head and off.

“Don’t move,” Frank murmured.  He thumbed one of Mike’s nipples, rubbing until it hardened into a stiff peak, and then repeated the action with his other nipple.  Using both hands now, he pinched his nipples, staring at Mike’s face, inches away, increasing the pressure until Mike winced.  Without releasing him, he lowered his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth, licking it and worrying it with his teeth. 

He lifted his head long enough to get out, “Pants.  Shoes,” and went back to the delicious torture, which was something of a revelation for Mike.  No one had ever paid this much attention to his nipples before.  His dick approved, though.

He pried off his shoes, unfastened his pants, and pushed them off, along with his briefs.  He tried to kick off the tangled clothing, but Frank lifted his head and shoved him in the direction of the bed.  Luckily, the room was small enough that when Mike tripped over his pants, he fell backwards onto the bed.

“We’re doing it like this tonight,” Frank declared.  “Face to face.”  He pulled Mike’s pants the rest of the way off.

Naked, Mike backed up, all the way onto the bed, and raised up on his elbows.  He thought about protesting.  Being on his knees, with Frank behind him, made it easier to ignore (not forget) who was back there pumping into him.  “Could we turn the lights off?”

Frank pretended to consider.  “Nah.  I wanna see those pretty blue eyes of yours when I’m coming inside of you.”

He lobbed the lube at Mike, who caught it with one hand against his chest.  “What?”

“Get yourself ready.  I’m gonna stand right here and watch.”  He grinned, showing all of his teeth.

Mike hid his long-suffering sigh and nodded once.  He uncapped the lube and squirted a slippery blob onto his fingertips.  Bending his legs and planting his feet on the bed, he located his entrance and worked a finger in.  He could hear Frank murmuring filthy encouragement, but did his best to ignore him.  When he shut his eyes, though, Frank immediately protested. 

“What did I say about those eyes?  Keep ‘em open and on me.

Mike opened his eyes.  The look Frank was giving him was so avid and hungry that Mike nearly groaned out loud.  He plunged two fingers in his hole and worked them around, opening himself up.

“Lift up your knees.”

Mike gave him a confused look, and Frank crossed the two steps to the bed to grasp Mike under the knees and force them back to his ears.

“I knew you’d be flexible.  Heh.  Like a gymnast.”

“Fuck,” Mike grunted, feeling like a pornographic pretzel.

“Stay just like that.”  Frank let him go, and reached for a condom.  He rolled it on while Mike finger-fucked himself and wished he’d spent more time working on his core.

Frank climbed on top of him, straightening Mike’s legs so they fell past his hips.  Sitting back on his heels, he lined himself up and pushed smoothly in.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over how tight you are,” he groaned.  He rocked in and out of Mike, biting his lip as if the sensation was too much.  “Eyes on me.  That’s it.”

Mike obediently kept his eyes open, but as Frank increased the pace and intensity of his thrusts, and braced his arms underneath Mike’s knees, folding him nearly in half again, his own eyes drifted shut.  He pounded into Mike, tendons on his neck standing out with the effort.

Mike felt the by now familiar shame wash through him at his own body’s reaction.  As if of their own will, his hips jerked up and back in rhythm with Frank’s.  He reached between them to grab his cock, stroking furiously, pressing his lips together in order to keep the sounds of his spiraling pleasure locked inside.  His efforts proved futile.  As he spilled over his hand, a wild yell burst out of his throat.   This seemed to spur Frank on. 

As Mike came down from the shivering high of his orgasm, he took in the sight of Frank straining over him.  The intensity on his face was almost frightening.  One lip curled into a sneer, and his harsh, rhythmic grunts hinted at barely leashed violence.  His eyes came open, and he caught Mike’s gaze on him.  Something feral flashed in his eyes, even as he bared his teeth, approximating a smile.  Sweat glistened at his temples, and down his lightly furred chest.  “This is good, huh?” he rasped out.

And what, exactly was Mike supposed to say to that?  He chose to say nothing.  This was the part he hated the most, after he’d come, with the endorphins draining away, and Frank continuing with seemingly boundless stamina, pounding away like a man possessed.  Mike wished he knew some tricks to speed things along, but he was too new at this.  He counted slowly to twenty in his head, did it again, and had started a third repetition before Frank moaned hoarsely, slammed in with half a dozen rough, sloppy strokes, and then shuddered again and again as he held Mike close.

He loosened his death grip on Mike’s legs, allowing him to straighten and drop them back onto the bed.  Mike waited for him to pull out and get off of him, counting the ceiling tiles to pass the time.  Frank lifted his chest off of Mike, leaving them joined.  Before Mike realized what he was about to do, too quick for him to react, Frank leaned down and kissed him on the mouth.  Surprise made him open his mouth to the invading tongue.  He allowed the kiss to go on for several seconds, and then made a sound in the back of his throat and turned his head away, breaking the kiss.

Frank made no comment at Mike’s rejection.  He pulled out carefully and got rid of the condom, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to Mike.

“You’re going to be okay when I’m gone,” he said softly, as if Mike had ever thought otherwise.  “I’ll tell my guys.  I’ll make it crystal clear that no one touches you.”

Mike was glad Frank wasn’t watching him, and so couldn’t see the look of disbelief on his face.  “Sure, Frank.  I’ll be fine.”

“This … “  Frank turned his head briefly to meet Mike’s eyes, then turned away and stared down at his hands.  “This was real nice, this here, between us.  I mean, I know it started out bad, because of my history with Harvey.  I wish we could have met under better circumstances.  Maybe … I don’t know.  Maybe we might have had a chance?”

_Agree to disagree?_ Mike kept his mouth shut.

“Well.”  Frank shrugged.  “Maybe not.  I just want you to know that you were the best thing that happened to me since I got arrested.  In a weird way, I’m gonna miss you, kid.”

Since this seemed like the best opportunity he might have, Mike said, “Can I ask you a favor?”

“I’m listening.”

“Promise me you’re not going to … do … anything when you get out?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean, to Harvey, or Rachel, or any of my friends.”

He gave Mike a side-eyed stare.  “Sure.  If Harvey leaves me alone, I’ll do the same.  So, yeah.  I promise.”

He moved back to lie down next to Mike, and this time Mike opened his arms for him, and accepted his embrace.  This would be the last time they were together, and after Frank’s admission, Mike’s pure hatred had turned to something more ambivalent.  Perhaps he was experiencing some form of Stockholm Syndrome, he mused, but for right now, this further capitulation felt easier than holding tight to hate and resentment.

******

Things moved quickly after that.  Kevin was gone by next afternoon.  He left while Mike was in the kitchen.  After all of his worry about his roommate, and after all he had done to keep him safe, Mike never got the chance to say goodbye.

Gallo took Mike’s advice and hired a new attorney.  He must have been an excellent one, or had excellent connections, because two days later, Gallo walked out of prison.

Mike fully expected that his own release would occur at any moment.  He waited a week before he called Harvey to see what the holdup was.

“Sorry, Mike, things have been a little crazy here.”

“Too crazy to get Cahill – no, sorry, _Sean_ – to honor our deal?  Kevin got out.  Frank got out in what seems to me like record time.”

A pause on the other end of the line.  “Frank?”

“What?”

“You just called him Frank.”  Harvey’s voice was drenched in disbelief, and something almost gentle, which Mike did not understand at all.

For half a second, Mike felt like apologizing, but then he got angry.  Harvey didn’t get judge him.  Not after what Mike had done for him.  And not after all of the _Sean this and Sean that._   “I didn’t call you to discuss how I refer to Frank Gallo.  What the hell is going on with my deal?”

“Mike … you seriously haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Gallo’s dead.”

He thought he must have misheard.  “How could he … what happened?”

“Whoever showed up at Danbury to drive him home shot him in the back of the head and left him on the side of the freeway.  The cameras picked up the plate number, stolen the same morning.”

“Shit,” Mike whispered.  Unwanted images filled his mind of those nights he’d spent with Frank.  He’d hated and resented every second of it, and knew with absolute certainty that Frank was not a good man, but hearing this news shocked him to the core.  “Do they know who did it?”

“He associated himself with more likely suspects than the cops know what to do with.  Which is fortunate for me.  They seemed to find it highly suspicious that he dropped me as his lawyer, and two days later he was dead.”

“How is that suspicious?  Clients drop their lawyers all the time.”

“Maybe because I’m on record trying to get him moved, and then turning around and taking him on as a client, only to have his petition for release quashed.  Which he shouldn’t have known about for at least another week, by the way.”

Mike remained quiet.  Harvey had to know who it was who had clued Frank in, but Mike wasn’t about to admit it.

“At any rate,” Harvey continued after a minute, “they thought they smelled a rat.  I’ve only just gotten thing smoothed over.  Sean has assured me that you’ll be out the day after tomorrow.”

Mike gripped the phone harder as his knees threatened to buckle.  “That’s great news, Harvey.  I … “  He covered the receiver with one hand as he fought to maintain control of his voice.  “I can’t wait to see you again.  You’re coming to pick me up, right?”

Another small silence.  “I’ll send Ray for you.”

“Oh.  I just thought –”

“Things are crazy here.  We have a slew of new clients.  Louis is having some kind of a love meltdown, and Jessica needs my help.”

“Yeah.  No, that’s okay.  Totally makes sense.  It’s totally fine.” 

It wasn’t totally fine, it was totally fucked up, and made Mike want to weep.  After all these years, they could read one another too well.  Harvey knew something, or sensed something.  He was the sharpest man Mike had ever met, and Mike had been an idiot for ever believing he could keep anything from him.

He hastened to end the call, hung up the phone, and stared blankly at the floor until an irritated voice insisted he get out of the way so that someone else could use the phone.

He moved away, walking with jerky steps until he reached a table where he could sit down.  He should be elated, whooping with joy at the thought of getting out of here.  He didn’t want to feel bad about Frank’s death, or guilty for betraying Harvey, or … anything.  He didn’t want to feel anything.

_I did what I had to do._

That was what he would keep telling himself.  He’d done what he had to do to protect the people he cared for.  And until he was home and could choose from a variety of chemical methods for forgetting, this is what he would continue to tell himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, this is planned as a 3 chapter story. Ch. 2 will be the story of what goes on between Harvey and Cahill. Ch. 3 will be the story of how Mike and Harvey attempt to make their way back to one another.


	2. Manipulation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's somewhat disconcerting to be writing something that takes place during the current season. This chapter weaves in and out of canon at the author's whim. As I said on the endnotes of Ch. 1, this chapter is pretty much all Harvey/Sean. Not BDSM (for those who avoid that), but a couple of hints of that sort of flavor. Also, a few punches are thrown, but everybody walks away intact (physically).

It was not long after his dust-up with Sean Cahill over the whole Woodall thing, that Harvey first sat down for a friendly drink with him.  Or, more accurately, he was already seated on his favorite stool at _Sampson’s_ , his favorite Manhattan bar, when Cahill showed up. 

It could have been an accidental meeting, him finding Harvey there while he was unwinding on a Friday night after another difficult week.  Cahill slid onto the stool next to him and raised a hand to get the bartender's attention.  

Harvey made no comment, but waited until Cahill had his (appallingly cheap) whiskey in front of him, and then lifted his own glass in half-mocking fashion. 

Cahill raised an eyebrow, drawing Harvey's gaze to his incredible blue eyes, the brightest spots of color in the shadowy room.  "What are we drinking to?" asked Cahill. 

Harvey shrugged.  "To … allies?" 

Cahill grinned at him.  "Is that what we are?" 

Harvey gave him a cautious smile back, liking him a little bit more with each passing minute.  "Frenemies?" 

Cahill tipped his head back and laughed, before downing his shot in one swift gulp, not even flinching at what had to be a vicious burn.  "Frenemies.  I like that.  Let me buy you another one." 

Eying the quarter inch of Macallan left in his own glass, Harvey shook his head.  "No, let me.  At least I can afford something that won't strip the paint off your insides." 

"Snob," Cahill countered good-naturedly, but he accepted the drink, and then one more, before bidding Harvey a good night. 

 

****** 

 

Two weeks following the (allegedly) chance meeting, Cahill invited Harvey out to dinner.  He went, because he recognized the value of cultivating friends who could one day become the fulcrum in the eternal scramble for leverage. 

They met at a Brooklyn steakhouse with a huge bar, and pool tables in the back, and where Sean seemed to know everybody.  Dinner was excellent, and Harvey observed again what he had noticed at _Sampson's_ , that a Sean Cahill lubricated with booze was a charming raconteur, full of stories and jokes and a ready laugh.  Harvey was no slouch in that department, although his humor tended more towards the dry and (in his opinion) sophisticated.   

By the time they moved to a pool table, and were engaged in a friendly (deathly competitive) game, Harvey was drunk enough that he didn't shut down when they started sharing stories from their childhood.  Sean's dad had been a Brooklyn cop, and a drunk with a quick temper.  He'd hated that Sean had decided on law school instead of the police academy, but he'd worked a second job to get him through Brooklyn Law. 

"What about you?" he asked Harvey, and finessed the three ball into the side pocket, using a ridiculous angle and backspin that brought the cue ball into perfect alignment to sink the eight ball on his next stroke, and win him his third game in a row. 

"My dad was a musician."  Harvey shook his head no when Sean asked if he'd like another game.  "I know when I've met my match.  Now, just let me get you in the boxing ring …" 

A sharp laugh from Sean.  "My boxing days are long over.  I wouldn't want to mess up my pretty face."  He took Harvey's pool stick and replaced both sticks in the wall rack.  "You must be good." 

"Why do you say that?" 

Sean stepped up to him, a little too close, right in his personal space, and murmured, "Because, your pretty face is still perfectly intact."  His pupils dilated, turning blue eyes nearly black. 

"Ah," was all that Harvey could manage, being too surprised at the acute left turn the night had taken to form a coherent sentence.  He braced himself, expecting Sean to lean in for a kiss, and not sure how he would react. 

Then Sean turned away, the moment was over, and Harvey wondered if he'd only imagined the hot interest he'd seen on Sean's face. 

****** 

After that, they settled into a routine of sorts.  Once a month, more or less, they met at the bar of one of their choosing, where they ate, drank, played pool, or darts, and on one memorable occasion, discovered the illegal card room in the back and played five card draw all night, making mincemeat of the other players, and finally being escorted out and asked never to came back, following some tense, dick-measuring moments with room security. 

A couple of times on these nights out, Harvey found a warm body at the bar to go home with, and was thankfully buzzed enough that he could ignore the look of hurt disappointment on Sean's face.  Once, it had been the pretty bartender, and the next time it was a beautiful young man he'd seen observing their pool game with smirking interest.  He'd turned out to be a hustler, who'd stolen all the money from Harvey's wallet before slipping off into the early morning.  At least Harvey had gotten a passable blowjob out of the deal. 

On both occasions when Harvey went home with a stranger, he detected a distinct chill in the atmosphere the next time he and Sean got together.  After the episode with the light-fingered hustler, it clicked with Harvey why Sean turned so aloof over something so trivial.  He was jealous. 

Had their nights out been dates, in Sean's mind?  Harvey tried to convince himself that it amused him to think so, but he'd grown to like Sean – as a friend.  Real friends were rare enough these days.  There was Mike, but he was also Harvey's employee.  Nearly everyone else he spent time with away from the office was either a client or someone Harvey was cultivating to become a client.  Discovering that Sean saw him as something more – or potentially something more – than a casual friend was unsettling. 

Harvey was just as likely to take a man home with him as he was a woman.  When it came to his male partners, however, Sean wasn't remotely his type.  He liked them a little younger, a little less … he struggled to put a word to it, and ultimately decided it was an aesthetics thing.  He preferred a slighter build, an outlook on life that didn't require gallons of cheap whiskey to smooth over, and a temperament not so prone to picking a fight with the world. 

Or to put it more succinctly, someone less like himself (if you changed cheap whiskey to expensive single malt scotch). 

So now he knew how Sean felt about him, and he suspected that Sean knew that he knew.  And maybe Harvey felt a little bad about that, but Sean Cahill was a big boy, and his unrequited lust was a tired and stale plot line in the history of the world.  Neither spoke out loud about any of this, preferring plausible deniability.  Maybe it was their lawyer training. 

Their nights out continued, creating a welcome escape from the wall-to-a wall chaos filling Harvey's work life – Louis finding out about Mike, Donna's defection to Louis (and the resulting panic attacks), the coordinated threats from Soloff, and Hardman, and Forstman.  He didn't confide any of this to Sean, but it was a relief to put it all aside for a few hours. 

****** 

When Mike was arrested, everything changed.  Word of his arrest got around the legal community with lightning speed, especially to those working in the same building as Anita Gibbs.  Sean probably heard before Harvey did.  In fact, since he'd cancelled their dinner three days before the arrest, he likely knew it was coming.  

For the next several weeks, Harvey was too busy trying to keep Mike out of prison to spare Sean more than a passing thought.  Ultimately, all of their efforts meant nothing when Mike took the deal.  The day Mike went to prison ranked as one of the worst days of Harvey's life.  First came Mike's almost-marriage to Rachel.  And then Harvey drove him to Danbury, and stood and watched Mike walk into the prison with a feeling that he'd just lost a limb, or had his heart yanked out and dumped on the sidewalk to flop and flounder for everyone to see. 

In that moment, he finally admitted to himself what he had known on some level for years.  He loved Mike Ross.  He loved him, and he wanted him, and he'd waited all this time for him, and now would have to wait two more years. 

****** 

It had been months since Harvey's last panic attack.  Not even all of the drama with Mike’s arrest and trial had set one off.  Maybe he'd been too busy trying to fix things to allow time for a breakdown. 

When he saw Gallo in front of the prison, and spoke to him through the fence, and heard all of his threats against Mike, he left the prison seething with fury.  As Ray drove him closer to home, the fury turned to fear, which escalated to stark terror.  If he couldn't get Mike out of there, he had to get Gallo moved.  And what, exactly, was Gallo doing in a white collar prison anyway?  He was a murderer, for God's sake. 

Harvey directed Ray to drive to the federal building.  He rode the elevator up and strode into Sean Cahill's office without knocking, wound so tight that he couldn't catch a breath, and couldn't get the words out that he needed to say. 

"Harvey?"  Sean shot to his feet and was at his side in three sides.  "What the hell happened?  Are you okay?" 

Harvey shook his head.  "Gallo," he finally got out on a choked gasp. 

"Here, sit down."   

Sean poured him a whiskey and thrust it into his shaking hands.  Harvey tossed it back like it was water, and after a few seconds he began to regain control of himself. 

Taking a seat in the chair next to Harvey's, Sean fixed him with his intense blue gaze.  "Tell me what happened." 

"I saw Gallo." 

"Gallo?" 

"Frank Gallo.  A really nasty piece of business.  I put him away when I was at the DA's office, and now he's somehow landed in Danbury.  You heard about Mike, I assume?" 

"I did."  The two words hinted at caution, and perhaps curiosity as to the extent of Harvey's involvement in the fraud.  

Right then, Harvey didn't give a shit what Sean thought about him.  "Gallo is going to go after Mike to get to me.  He's dangerous.  I need your help, Sean.  You need to move Gallo immediately.  Send him back to maximum security." 

"Just how the hell am I supposed to do that?" asked Cahill, refilling Harvey's glass. 

"Figure it out!"  Harvey sipped slowly, struggling to get control of his temper.  "You owe me, Sean." 

"Excuse me?  For what?" 

"Don't play dumb.  For Woodall.   

Sean looked angry, but Harvey could tell he was thinking about it.  After a few minutes though, he shook his head, and Harvey's hope drained away.   

"Goddamnit, Sean.  I need this.  For Mike." 

Sean scowled and stood up, moving back behind his desk.  "For Mike.  Right.  It's always about Mike with you, isn't it?" 

Harvey had heard something similar from enough people over the years that Sean's words didn't faze him, not as much as the look on his face, or his tone of voice.  He was deeply angry, and disappointed and … jealous.  He was jealous of Mike. 

Harvey had spoken of Mike often enough, and had even called off one or two dinners because of something involving Mike.  Now, when he needed Sean on their side, he seemed unlikely to exert himself on Mike's behalf.   

Harvey grew desperate.  "Sean.  I'm begging you.  Do this for me.  Use your connections to help Mike." 

Sean turned his back on Harvey, staring out the window. 

Later, Harvey would tell himself that the whiskey had affected his reasoning and good sense.  The truth was, he would do anything to help Mike, and he knew the best and quickest way to get Sean to go along with his wishes.   

Unlike the offices at Pearson Specter Litt, Sean's office was not designed like a fish bowl.  The walls were solid, with no windows looking out on the hallway.  Harvey got up and closed the door, and then moved to stand behind Sean, laying a hand on his shoulder, and felt him tense up. 

"I'm serious," Harvey murmured.  "I'll beg.  I'll do anything you want if you'll help Mike."  He massaged Sean's shoulder for a few seconds, before stroking down his arm.  When Sean still failed to react, he reached around and trailed his fingers up and down the front of his trousers.   

A strong hand grabbed Harvey's wrist and squeezed so hard it hurt. 

"What are you doing?" growled Sean. 

"If you have to ask, I must not be doing it right." 

"Harvey … "  Sean turned slowly, keeping possession of Harvey's wrist, twisting his arm just short of painful. 

Unwilling to back down, Harvey met Sean's stormy gaze, and didn't flinch.  "I'm offering you what we both know you've wanted for a long time now."  Harvey rearranged his face into his most charming smile.  "I'm offering you me." 

Sean's gaze flicked to the closed door, and back to Harvey.  "This is outrageous."  He did not sound at all outraged.  He stepped right up to Harvey, chest to chest, and bent his captured arm behind his back.  "Are you seriously trying to bribe a U.S. Attorney?" 

"I'm trying.  Seriously trying."  Harvey licked his lips, and watched the look in Sean's eyes go from interested to ravenous.  "No one needs to know, except for you and me." 

Letting go of Harvey, Sean took two steps back.  "Does Mike Ross even know how you feel about him?" 

Despite all of his bravado, this question made Harvey wince.  "What he knows or doesn't know is not any of your business – or relevant." 

"No?" 

"No.  It's my fault he's in prison.  It's also my fault that Frank Gallo has made it his personal mission to turn Mike's time there into hell." 

"And you feel so guilty about all of that, you're willing to whore yourself out to get me to pull some strings you think I have access to?  No, don't answer.  I can see that the answer is a resounding yes."  He shook his head sadly.  "Am I so distasteful to you?" 

"What?  No.  It's just … we're friends, and that friendship is important to me."  Harvey could clearly see that he was losing Sean's interest, so he ramped up the charm offensive.  "You don't think I've thought about it a time or two, how it might go between us?  I wasn't sure you were even interested in me that way.  I didn't want to ruin a good thing." 

A bitter laugh.  "Oh, you're good.  You're very good." 

"Sean, you have no idea."  Harvey paused for two beats.  "But you could find out how good I am.  Let me show you." 

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph.  You could put Lucifer to shame."  Sean's eyes closed briefly, and he gave his head a rough shake.  Harvey worried that he was about to be turned down, but then Sean opened his eyes and asked, "What sort of parameters are you offering for this ... transaction?" 

Harvey took a few deep breaths, in and out, feeling the first niggle of doubt about this course of action.  _For_ _Mike,_ he reminded himself.  He would do it for Mike.  "You, in my bed, as often as you like, until Mike is safe.  Just be aware that if you delay Gallo's removal, I'll know, and I'll kick your ass." 

Sean chuckled and tilted his head to the side, expression calculating.  "You could try to kick my ass, but even though I don't put on gloves anymore, or spar for the sake of recreation, my dad taught me how to take a punch, and how to throw a punch.  That shouldn't be necessary.  When I make a bargain, I honor it.   

"So here is my counter offer.  You in _my_ bed.  Or in my office, or in the men's room, or anywhere I say, when I say.  You're mine until Mike walks out of Danbury a free man."  He held up a hand as if anticipating Harvey's next words.  "You're just going to have to trust that I won't do anything to hold up Mike's release.  So.  Do we have a deal?" 

With no further hesitation, Harvey nodded and stuck out his hand.  "We have a deal." 

"I don't think a handshake is going to do, Harvey.  I'd rather seal this deal with a kiss." 

Harvey nodded.  They both moved at once, each taking one shuffling step to close the distance between them.  They were of equal height, and Harvey found himself looking directly into Sean's eyes.  His gaze drifted down to his mouth, just as Sean grabbed both of his lapels and pressed his lips to Harvey's.  With a sigh composed of equal parts acquiescence and resignation, Harvey softened his mouth and opened to allow Sean's tongue in.   He didn't expect to feel anything, but surprisingly, a spark of desire ignited in his gut.  He hummed in approval and tangled his tongue with Sean's 

Sean's hands crept around his body to cup his ass, pulling their hips together, and giving Harvey a preview of sorts of what he could expect.  Hard and thick, Sean's cock pressed against him.  Harvey groaned, tipping his head to the side, losing himself in sensation.  Sean was a good kisser, almost as good as Harvey.  When they finally pulled back and looked at each other, Harvey suspected his own eyes were every bit as dark and lust-filled as Sean's. 

"Now that," murmured Sean, "is how you close a deal." 

Harvey chuckled, disguising an inconvenient rush of misgiving.  "Are you going to make some calls about Gallo?  Don't let me stop you." 

Sean glanced at his watch.  "It's too late for that tonight.  First thing in the morning, I promise.  Shall we ride together to my place?  I assume your driver is downstairs." 

"Ah.  Right to it.  Do I need to swing by home for a change of clothes?"  He was really asking if Sean expected him to spend the night. 

"Don't worry, I'm not mistaking this for a relationship.  If you prefer to sleep in your own bed after I'm done with you, feel free." 

That is what Harvey preferred, but hearing Sean state it so baldly, with poorly disguised melancholy, almost made him feel bad for the guy.  He couldn't afford any doubts, so smiling as if he was one hundred percent on board, he gestured toward the door.  "Let's go." 

****** 

If Harvey had imagined that making good on his end of the bargain would result in simple, athletic sex of the _wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am_ variety, he was proven wrong as soon as he and Sean entered the bedroom. 

"Stop," Sean ordered when Harvey began to shrug out of his jacket.  "I want to undress you." 

Suppressing a sigh of impatience, Harvey nodded and then stood passively and let Sean have his way.  He stood behind Harvey, carefully removing his jacket and hanging it over the back of a chair.  He unknotted Harvey's tie, tugged it free, and placed it with the jacket.  Then with his front pressed to Harvey's back, he slowly pulled his shirt out of his pants and unbuttoned it.  Sharp, warm puffs of breath hit the back of Harvey's neck, making him shiver.  The shirt disappeared, and Sean pulled his undershirt over his head and off. 

Next, his hands went to Harvey's belt buckle, but he paused, taking long minutes to kiss behind his ear, and down his neck to his shoulder.  Harvey felt the belt slither through the loops, and heard it hit the ground somewhere behind Sean.  Following the silent demands of Sean's hands, he turned around so that they were facing one another.  Maintaining eye contact, as if daring Harvey to voice an objection, Sean unfastened his pants and stuck his hand down Harvey's boxer briefs to stroke him to full hardness. 

Still holding his cock, he walked Harvey backwards until they reached the bed, and finally let go so that Harvey could sit on the edge of the mattress.  Sean went to one knee in front of Harvey and unlaced first one shoe, and then the other, before removing them, along with his socks.  He must have been growing impatient by then, because when he whisked Harvey's pants and briefs down and off, he tossed them haphazardly in the general direction of his jacket.   

"Lie down," he whispered, voice thick with lust.   

Harvey complied, propping a pillow behind his back as Sean stood beside the bed and treated him to the sight of a rapid, efficient striptease.  He was thick everywhere, from his neck, to his shoulders, to his torso, to his thighs and his long, heavily bobbing cock.  As Harvey observed him, he was forced to face the fact that he was going to have that cock inside of him soon, the first time he had bottomed in years.  The thought made him perspire, partly in anticipation, and partly in trepidation. 

Sean lay down next to him, rolling close, making contact all the way from his shoulders to his feet.  The feel of all of that warm, solid flesh snugged up next to him helped to settle Harvey's jumpy nerves.  He turned to face him, draping an arm over Sean's waist, and went in for a kiss.  It started out as sweet as the one in Sean's office, but grew frantic and heated in a hurry.  Sean pinned Harvey's shoulders to the bed and climbed on top of him, plundering his mouth as he went.  His hips jerked as he rubbed off against Harvey. 

Growing dizzy from too much sensation, Harvey turned his head away and filled his lungs with air.  "Sean," he gasped. 

"I'm right here." 

Harvey could feel Sean's long, heavy cock poking against his belly, and was assailed by second thoughts about what he had set in motion.  "Let me suck you," he blurted out. 

Electric blue eyes regarded him, and then Sean nodded.  "Do it."  He rolled off of Harvey and bent his arms behind his head, giving Harvey full access.  He crawled down Sean's body and licked a stripe up the underside of his cock.   

"I don't want to come in your mouth," Sean warned him.  "This is just the warm up.  I intend to bury myself inside your body and fuck you until you forget all about that little fraud up in Danbury." 

Harvey lifted his head.  "Talk about him like that again, and you won't get a goddamn thing from me." 

"Temper, Harvey," chided Sean.  "What happened to all of that touching worry about Frank Gallo?" 

Harvey pushed his anger away.  _For_ _Mike,_ he reminded himself, bending down to suck the head of Sean's cock into his mouth, wetting every inch of it with his tongue.  Holding the base, he lowered his head until the head nudged the back of his throat, and he sucked, and tongued, and used one hand to jerk him off while the other played with his balls.  It started off rather mechanical, but as he continued, he sank down into the right headspace, striving to give optimum pleasure. 

Judging by Sean's reaction, Harvey was doing it exactly right.  He thrust up shallowly and grabbed Harvey's head, fingers digging into his hair.  "That's it.  Ah, goddamn, you're good at this." 

 _Told you._   Another time, Harvey might have felt smug.  Right now, despite what Sean had said earlier, his plan was to get him off fast, just like this, and get the hell home.  He took a deep breath through his nose, and pushed lower, working his throat around Sean's cock. 

Sean locked his ankles around Harvey's back and pulled his hair."Fucking hell," he gasped.  "Stop." 

Harvey continued his sensual assault.  Seconds later, he saw stars when Sean backhanded the side of his head, not using much force, but getting his point across.  Pulling off, Harvey lifted his head and gave him an accusatory glare.   

Sean glared right back.  "That's enough.  I told you what I wanted.  Is this how you honor a deal?" 

Knowing he'd fucked up, Harvey rearranged his face into a smile and rubbed his knuckles up and down Sean's thigh.  "I'm sorry.  I got carried away.  You just taste so good."  He licked his lips to punctuate the point.  "I promise, you'd love it." 

Eyes softening, Sean smiled back, holding the side of Harvey's head, and letting his thumb play gently across his cheek.   "Next time.  This time, we're doing it my way.  Get back up here.  I want you on your hands and knees for this." 

Something deep inside of Harvey, something he'd never acknowledged before, responded to the hard edge of command in Sean's voice.  He got on his knees, spread them wide apart, and leaned on his elbow. 

"Now that," said Sean, "is the prettiest sight I've seen in years." 

"Uh, Sean." 

"Harvey." 

He sighed, hating having to confess to what felt like a weakness in that moment, but unwilling to risk the consequences of keeping quiet.  "You should know that I haven't done this for a while." 

"Oh.  I suppose that shouldn't surprise me.  How long is a while?" 

He thought for a second.  "Seven or eight years." 

"Oh dear.  Are we having a Madonna moment?" 

" _What?_ "  Harvey let out a confused laugh. 

"You know.  Like a virgin?" 

"Oh, Jesus.  No.  Just … let's ease into this, shall we?" 

"You mean, ease into you?" 

"Whatever."  He grabbed a pillow and hugged it to his chest. 

Sean gave his bottom a couple of pats that were probably meant to be reassuring.  "Don't worry, baby.  I'm going to treat you real good." 

 _Don't call me baby,_ Harvey wanted to growl in reply, but judged that this probably wasn't the best time to antagonize his lover.  He listened to the small, subtle sounds of Sean making preparations, opening a drawer, setting items on the bed.  A look over his shoulder caused his eyes to open wider.  "What the hell is that?" 

Sean picked up the blue object and looked between it and Harvey, one eyebrow raised.  "You've never seen a dildo before?" 

"Of course I have.  Are you telling me you intend to put that inside of me?"  Perhaps he sounded affronted, but the truth was, the idea excited him.  He'd seen one, and used one, but he'd never been on the receiving end.   

"I want this to last," Sean explained.  "If you're as tight as I expect you are, that’s going to be a problem for me, stamina-wise.  This way, I get to play with you for a good long while and get you ready for me at the same time."  He waited for Harvey to say something.  "You're allowed to object, Harvey." 

After a brief internal debate, Harvey answered in a breathless voice, "I don't object." 

"That's the spirit."  Another butt pat. 

Harvey continued to watch Sean over his shoulder until he'd slicked up his fingers with lube.  At that point, he closed his eyes, settled down further on his elbows, and waited for contact.  He'd expected cold fingers, but they were warm, and the first one felt nice going in.  He welcomed the burn, and the pressure, and wondered why he never did this anymore.  No, that wasn't true.  He knew why.  His partners expected something different from him.  He was usually perfectly happy to give them what they wanted, but this … this was okay, this temporary ceding of control. 

He sighed, lecturing himself to relax.  The pressure inside of him increased as Sean added another finger.   

"Beautiful," murmured Sean.  "You're taking it like a champ." 

No response was necessary, but Harvey grunted softly, hips jerking back to meet Sean's fingers.  He let himself be manipulated this way, enjoying the attention perhaps more than was good for his peace of mind.  All too soon, Sean removed his fingers, and Harvey let out a silent sigh.  Behind him, he heard the subtle smacking sound of the dildo being lubed up, and then it prodded his entrance. 

"We're going to take this nice and slow," Sean whispered.  He worked the dildo into Harvey's rectum in gradual stages, halting, twisting, fucking it in and out, and then working it in further.   

Every time Harvey felt himself tensing up, he took a few slow, deep breaths and lectured himself not to fight the intrusion.  Finally, Sean had breached him all the way.  He let the dildo sit for a minute or two, and then began moving it, in and out, starting slowly, and building speed.   

"How's that feel, baby?" 

"Mmm," was all he could get out. 

Sean reached underneath him and gave his cock a few easy strokes.  "You like that?" 

"Yeah," he said in a slurry voice.  "Feels good, Sean." 

The angle of the dildo altered, and Harvey squawked once before he regained control of himself.  The control was short-lived.  Sean targeted his prostate until he had Harvey squirming and moaning nonstop.   

He stopped then, leaving the dildo inside of Harvey while he tore open a condom packet, rolled it onto himself, and lubed up.  He pulled the dildo free and set it aside, lined up the head of his cock, and pushed into Harvey in one smooth motion, not stopping until he had bottomed out.  With his arms tight around Harvey's waist, he held still. 

"This is what I want you to remember," Sean said, breath hot against Harvey's ear.  "Maybe one day you'll have Mike like this, but I had you first, and nothing will ever change that."  He licked the shell of Harvey's ear, making him shiver.   

Sean pulled almost all of the way out, and thrust back in, adding a little extra force at the end of his stroke.  He repeated the motion, harder this time, then and settled into an easy rhythm which felt to Harvey as if it could go on for a while.   

He tried to shut off his mind, and when that didn't he work, he tried to send his thoughts somewhere else, away from Sean's bedroom with the dark, heavy furniture and white walls bare of everything except a few old family photographs.  He imagined a sports car, with him behind the wheel, but the car spun out of control and plunged off a cliff.  "Fuck," he muttered. 

"Yeah," grunted Sean.  "It's good, isn't it?  This is good."  He sped up, pumping furiously.  "Tell me how much you love this." 

"So good," Harvey gasped, holding the pillow in a death grip.  It wasn't a lie.  It felt fantastic, but his heart wasn't in it.  His heart was sixty-three miles north, in Danbury Prison.   

"Jerk yourself off." 

Obediently, he palmed his cock and stroked mechanically, working himself feverishly until he came on a sob, which he bit off. 

Sean threw his head back, hips jerking wildly now.  "Oh, Harvey.  Oh, baby, that feels so good."  He slammed in several more times and froze, yelling wordlessly as he came and came inside of Harvey.  His collapsing weight mashed Harvey to the mattress, and then he stopped moving, except for his cock, which twitched inside of Harvey for a few more seconds. 

Harvey waited, and waited, but Sean stayed on top of him, and inside of him. 

"Uh, Sean?  I should probably take off." 

A long, drawn out sigh, and then Sean carefully pulled out of him and flopped onto his back.  Through heavy lids, he gestured down at himself.  “Take care of that before you go, all right?” 

Harvey hesitated, but he did as Sean had asked, removing the used condom, tying it off and carrying it to the bathroom, where he tossed it in the garbage.  He washed his hands, taking care not to look in the mirror.  Returning to the bedroom, he found Sean already asleep, and snoring softly.  He got dressed as quietly as he could, resolutely ignoring his sore ass, turned off the light, and let himself out of the apartment. 

He got lucky, and was able to flag down a cab right outside of Sean’s building.  When he got home, he stripped off his clothes and took a long, hot shower.  In spite of his best efforts to remain blank and numb, his mind replayed the events of the past few hours over and over again.  The confrontation with Gallo had sent his emotions careening out of control, and the next thing he knew, he had agreed to be Sean Cahill’s sex toy for the next two years. 

As he dried off, he attempted to see the humor in the situation.  At least his panic attack had been squelched before it got the better of him.  Plus he’d gotten laid.   

And been treated like a whore.   

He decided there was little humor to be found in any of it, so he’d have to settle for being philosophical.  He’d cut deals for his clients before.  None had been so far outside the bounds of legal procedure, but if it got him what he wanted, if it guaranteed that Mike made it through his sentence intact, then Harvey would get fucked by Sean every night, and lick his balls, and act as if he loved every single minute of it. 

That didn’t mean he had to remain sober throughout it all.  With a towel wrapped around his hips, he padded into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of scotch and a glass, and carried them to bed to drink himself to sleep. 

****** 

As much as Harvey would have liked to avoid Sean for a day, or a week, or the rest of his life, he went to see him at his office first thing in the morning, to ensure that he moved his efforts to get Gallo transferred out of Danbury to the top of his work pile.   

From the time they’d spent together, he knew that Sean possessed an excellent poker face.  It was firmly in place when Harvey leaned against the door jamb and stared across the room at him, and while a stranger might have seen only blank disinterest, Harvey did not miss the mocking, proprietary gleam in his eyes. 

"Harvey.  What are you doing here this early in the morning?  Missing me already?" 

Harvey stretched his mouth into a grim smile.  "I'm here to remind you to fulfill your part of the bargain.  Gallo needs to be your number one priority right now." 

"How could you ever doubt me?  Saving Mike Ross's pathetic ass is penciled in right after eradicating malaria and reversing climate change." 

"Sean … goddamn it." 

"Kidding."  He picked up a legal pad and waved it in the air.  "This is the list of phone numbers I've compiled, of contacts, and favors I can call in."  He smiled smugly.  "We should see results by the end of business today.  How's that for prioritizing?" 

The tight knot of fear that had been lodged in Harvey's chest since yesterday loosened at Sean's words of assurance.  "Thanks, Sean."  He almost added, _I owe you one,_ but that had already been settled.  He owed Sean much more than one.  "So … tonight?" 

"Yeah."  Sean glanced at the door.  "Why don't you come by here around six?"  He dropped his voice to a whisper.  "You can finish that blowjob you were so eager to give me last night." 

Harvey nodded, not trusting his voice, and left. 

****** 

It turned into one of the more frustrating days Harvey could recall.  He spent it chasing clients who didn't want anything to do with him, fending off Sutter, whose business he didn't care to touch, and arguing with Jessica about all of it.  Mid-morning, Mike called him, sounding as angry and desperate as Harvey had ever heard him. 

"I asked you to stay out of it, and now you've only made it worse." 

"I'm sorry, Mike.  Gallo got under my skin.  I'm working on getting him transferred.  Just hang in there a little bit longer.  I've got this." 

"Promise?" 

"I promise." 

He managed to get Mike calmed down before they ended the call, but hearing the stress in his voice was killing Harvey.  He kept one eye on his phone for most of the afternoon, itching to call Sean to see what progress he'd made.  Finally, at 5:30 he informed a surprised Donna that he was leaving for the day. 

"Jessica and Louis are still here," she said, as if that might change his mind. 

"And I'm going out.  Don't worry, Donna.  I probably won't be seeing my bed sooner than anyone else here." 

On the other hand, he'd be seeing more of Sean's bed, if not tonight, then soon. 

****** 

The moment that Harvey walked into Sean's office, and saw the look on his face, he guessed that the news was not good. 

"Sean, tell me you got Gallo moved." 

A heavy sigh.  Sean threw his pen down and leaned back in his chair.  "Turns out, it's not that easy.  I’m sorry, Harvey.  It's not going to happen." 

"Then you need to make it happen." 

"There's a reason Gallo was transferred to Danbury." 

"Which is … ?" 

"I can't tell you that." 

Harvey's heart felt like it dropped straight to the floor.  "Which means he informed on somebody." 

"I didn't say that."  A pause.  "But yes, basically.  As things stand right now, he's not going anywhere." 

"Shit."  Harvey's thoughts swirled crazily, like dark heavy clouds swarming in from every direction.  He could feel another panic attack racing in on him, and put a hand on his chest, rubbing at the pain caused by over-tensed muscles.  Through the buzzing in his ears, he barely heard Sean speak his name.  A hand touched his arm, and he flinched. 

"Sit down," Sean ordered, shoving a chair behind Harvey. 

His knees buckled, and he dropped onto the chair. 

"Unless you tell me what's going on in about two seconds," said Sean, voice urgent, "I'm dialing 911." 

“Don’t.”  Harvey loosened his tie and clutched Sean’s arm.  “I’m okay.”  He wasn’t okay, but he needed Sean to believe it.  “I’m just … shit.  What am I going to do?”  He stared up at Sean, beseeching.  “If he hurts Mike … “   Gutted, he couldn’t finish the thought.  Leaning forward, he held his head in his hands. 

“Take this.” 

A glass of whiskey appeared in front of him, and Harvey grabbed it, gulping half of it down. 

“Listen, Harvey, there may be another way to help Mike.” 

Harvey looked up to find Sean perched on the edge of his desk, regarding Harvey with a troubled look on his face.  “Can you put a hit on Gallo in prison?” he asked, only partly joking.   

“Funny.  No, I’m talking about a way to get Mike out.” 

The surge of hope was almost painful.  “I swear to God, if you’re playing with me right now … “ 

“I’m not.” 

“Then tell me.” 

****** 

If it hadn’t already been too late, Harvey would have driven straight up to Danbury to inform Mike that all he had to get out of prison was to do what he had always been good at – getting his cellmate Kevin to trust him and open up to him.   

“You seem awfully certain that he’ll go for it,” observed Sean from across the table.  They’d convened to the nearest bar for drinks and dinner, although Harvey hadn’t been able to manage more than a few bites. 

“Wouldn’t you?  Mike would have to be an idiot not to jump at this deal.” 

Sean let out a derisive snort.  “He went to prison for you, didn’t he?” 

Hating the reminder, Harvey pressed his lips together and stared glumly at the table.  He would prefer to believe that Mike reserved that level of loyalty for him, but until he actually heard the word _yes_ come out of his mouth, he’d continue to worry.  He drained his glass and signaled the waiter for another round. 

“Don’t you think you should slow down a little?” 

“I don’t see why.  I’d like to get at least some sleep tonight.” 

Giving a _tsk_ of impatience, Sean pushed Harvey’s barely touched sandwich closer to him.  “Eat something.” 

“Having you go ‘mother hen’ on me is a bit too much, all things considered, don’t you think?” 

With an unhappy look on his face, Sean slammed back his own drink.  “True, I may have taken advantage of the situation, but what you need to understand is that I actually care about you.” 

Harvey laughed out loud at that.  “Bullshit.” 

“Hey, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself last night.”  Sean waited until the waiter had finished delivering their drinks and left, before leaning across the table and whispering, “You came like a fucking freight train.” 

“You’re exaggerating.”  Harvey picked up half of the sandwich and finished it off in three large bites.  Dinner accomplished, he returned his full attention to drinking himself senseless. 

“That's it," said Sean.  "I’ve made up my mind.  You’re spending the night at my place.” 

“Talk about taking advantage.” 

“It’s not about that.  I saw how you looked when I gave you the news about Gallo.  I don’t know what that was, and you can choose to believe me or not, but I’m worried about you.” 

“Sean … “ 

“Humor me.” 

Harvey gulped down his drink.  “Fine.  Slumber party it is.  We’re stopping at a liquor store, though.  No way am I drinking your shitty booze.” 

****** 

It wasn’t until they were both undressed and lying in Sean’s bed with the lights out, that Harvey brought up the subject of their bargain. 

“You do realize that your failure to get Gallo moved invalidates our agreement, right?” 

“Does it?” 

Harvey groaned.  “Something tells me you’re about to go all lawyer on me.” 

“Hm.  Well, the actual wording of our agreement was that I would work to keep Mike safe, and that I would do nothing to delay either Gallo’s removal, or Mike’s release.  I’ve done neither.  Further, we agreed that your obligations would last until Mike was free.  Since I’m now actively working for his release, I’d say I’ve more than upheld my end of things.” 

Rolling onto his side, Harvey put his back to Sean.  “Never make a hasty verbal agreement with an asshole attorney,” he grumbled, half to himself.  Sean pressed himself to Harvey’s back, kissing him behind the ear.  “Sean, I don’t think … I’m pretty beat.” 

“Hush.”  He massaged Harvey’s shoulders.   “You’re so tense.” 

That was true.  Harvey had drunk far past his usual stopping place, but hadn’t managed to shut off his thoughts and worries about Mike.  He definitely wasn’t up for a round of energetic sex.  “Can I still object?” he asked, slurring the words. 

“There’s nothing to object to.  I’m not a complete asshole.  I just want to help you relax.  Is that okay?” 

“Relax how?” 

“You don’t have to do a thing.”  Sean laid his arm across Harvey’s waist and grasped his cock. 

“Dammit it, Sean.” 

“It’s okay.  Ssh.  Let me.” 

Harvey didn’t reply, but he didn’t move, or push him away.  He closed his eyes and tried to imagine it was someone else’s hand touching him, jerking him off, and someone else’s tongue trailing wetly around the shell of his ear and down his neck.  The hand sped up, and he moved into it, hips jerking forward to meet rough strokes, head thrown back to rest against the strong shoulder behind him. 

“Ah, God,” he groaned.  “Yeah, Mike, that’s good.”  He shuddered through his release, and maybe the hand froze for the briefest of seconds before finishing him off, but he was already sliding down into blessed, welcome sleep, and was past caring. 

****** 

It took some coaxing, and repeated reminders of the continuing threat from Gallo, but in the end Mike took the deal.  He assured Harvey that he would do his best to get Kevin to talk, but that it might take a while.  In the meantime, they came up with a plan to keep Gallo at bay for the short term. 

Before Harvey left, Mike put a hand on his arm.  “Are you okay, Harvey?” 

“What?  Of course.” 

“Are you taking care of yourself?” 

Harvey laughed.  “Me?  I’m not the one in prison.”  He touched Mike’s hand.  “You’re the one who needs to take care himself.  I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.” 

Mike’s gaze grew shuttered, and he withdrew his hand, but he nodded.  “I’ll be fine.” 

Something in his voice caused Harvey to take a closer look at him, noting the dark crescents underneath his eyes, and the weary slump of his shoulders.  He wished he had some words of advice, something more useful than _stay_ _strong,_ or _keep your chin up._   Finally, he settled for, “Call me as soon as you get anything from Kevin.” 

“I will.” 

As he walked outside, he saw Gallo at the fence, watching him.  This time, Harvey kept his distance, and Gallo, thankfully, kept his mouth shut, because fence or no fence, one wrong word from the bastard, and Harvey was prepared to ripping his fucking lungs out. 

****** 

Time slowed to an aggravating crawl.  A day after Harvey’s last visit to Danbury, Mike called to tell him that he’d taken care of the Gallo problem, by figuring out a way he could be released from prison.  They’d wasted most of the call arguing.  No way did Harvey want Gallo to walk free.   And why should he, when Mike would soon gain his own release? 

“Kevin’s not such any easy nut to crack,” Mike explained.  “This is going to take some time.” 

“Come on, Mike.  You know how this works.” 

“Right.  Press until it hurts.  But you know what?  Maybe I’m just getting a little tired of hurting people.” 

“Better him than you.” 

“Oh Jesus, Harvey.  Can you even hear yourself?  Try giving a shit about someone besides yourself for once.” 

“I give a shit about you!”  Breathing hard, he gripped the phone so hard his hand hurt.  “I give a shit about you, and I’m doing everything I can to protect you, but you need to meet me halfway.” 

“The thing is, you can’t protect me in here.  Only I can do that, and I’ve got it handled.” 

“Handled how?” 

No response. 

“Mike?  Handled how?” 

“Just worry about yourself.  I’ve got to go.  Someone else needs the phone.” 

“All right, but – ”  The line went dead. 

****** 

Harvey hadn’t heard from Sean for nearly two days.  That should have made him happy, but after his phone call from Mike, he couldn’t settle his thoughts down.  He needed a distraction, and decided he’d become a little too chummy lately with his best friend, Macallan.  Added to that, he wanted to keep Mike at the forefront of Sean’s mind, and keep him happy and working the case.  So instead of heading home at six, he had Ray drop him off in front of Sean’s building.   

If Sean was surprised to find him sitting on his front steps half an hour later, he didn’t show it.   

“Harvey.  Did I forget about our date?” 

“Shut up.”  Harvey climbed to his feet.  “Can I come in?” 

“Be still my heart.  And yes, absolutely.” 

They walked through the door together, and rode the elevator up. 

As Sean unlocked his front door, he asked, “Have you eaten yet?” 

“I’m not hungry.” 

As if he’d just realized something, Sean paused, head tilted to one side.  “Is this a booty call?” 

“No.  Maybe.  Probably.” 

Without another word, Sean stepped up to Harvey and kissed him.  Harvey hated that he liked it so much, and hated even more that he needed it in this moment.  It didn’t mean anything.  He knew that, and he hoped Sean knew it as well.  The kiss intensified and Harvey felt Sean harden against his thigh. 

With a satisfied noise in the back of his throat, Sean broke free.  “You feel like finishing that blowjob?” 

“I want to be clear about one thing first.  When Mike gets what you need from his cellmate, you will get him out of there.  No stalling.  Correct?” 

A cagey smile appeared on Sean’s face.  “Correct.  And I’ve got some ideas as to how to speed things along.  Suck me off like you mean it, and I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.” 

After only the slightest hesitation, Harvey started to remove his jacket, but Sean stopped him. 

“No.  Leave it on.  Leave everything on.” 

Withholding comment, Harvey nodded and unbuckled Sean’s belt.  Inside of him swirled a queasy mixture of hope for Mike, disgust at himself, and rapidly spiking arousal.  He unfastened Sean’s pants and tugged down the front of his briefs, freeing his already erect cock.  The man was hung, that was for certain. 

Going to his knees, he started off by methodically tonguing every inch, feeling a rush of heat to his gut when Sean’s hands landed on his head, cradling and subtly massaging.  He covered the plum-shaped head with his mouth, licking and sucking it like candy, while he stroked the shaft.  The second time Sean shifted his feet, Harvey lifted his head.  “Want to sit?” 

“Yeah,” came the hoarse reply. 

Working together, they maneuvered themselves the few steps to the couch, and Sean dropped heavily onto it.  Harvey resumed where he’d left off, adding a head bob to gradually take more and more of Sean’s cock.  Relaxing his throat, he impressed himself (and Sean, judging by his surprised yell) by deep-throating him, ending up with his nose pushed into Sean’s hairy groin.  Working his throat around him, he reached for his balls, squeezing and caressing.   

His vision went sparkly around the edges, and Harvey lifted up, inhaling some much needed air.  As he jerked Sean roughly, he looked up to find himself being watching with a disturbing intensity.   

“Finish me off,” rasped Sean, and tenderly stroked the side of Harvey’s face.  

Harvey captured the head in his mouth, confidently swallowing him to the root once more.  Humming around the shaft, he reached around and found Sean’s hole, which he breached with one fingertip, fucking in and out with shallow stabs.  Sean went tense.  He tightened his hold on Harvey’s head, and pulled back, only to slam in and out of Harvey’s throat half a dozen times, choking him until his eyes watered.   

Harvey made a guttural sound of distress, and Sean could have been responding to that, or just acting on his own desires, but he pulled all the way out and gasped, “Eyes closed,” half a second before he came on Harvey’s face.  Harvey hadn’t thought he’d get off this round, but this proved too much.  He rubbed at the rigid outline of his own cock, and it only took a few frantic strokes before he came inside his pants.   

Chest heaving, cooling cum sliding down his face, and soaking into his pants, Harvey had never felt less like the powerful Manhattan attorney than he did at that moment.   

“Jesus,” breathed Sean with near reverence, “that was beautiful.” 

Harvey opened one eye, and then the other, to discover Sean grinning down at him.  “Fuck.  I’ve made a mess of myself.  Or should I say _we’ve_ made a mess.” 

“A glorious mess.”  Sean offered his hand, and helped Harvey to his feet.  “Go take a shower while I order dinner.  Grab some of my clothes from the dresser.” 

“You going to pay my dry cleaning bill?” 

“Hell no.  You get explain your own interesting stains.” 

“Fantastic.” 

****** 

“So we’re agreed,” said Sean, wadding up his napkin and tossing it on top of his pizza crusts.  “You’re going to take Sutter’s case.” 

“And you’re going to prove that Kevin’s trading program isn’t what earned him all that money.” 

Sean frowned across the table at him.  “It won’t be easy without a copy of the program.  I’ll do my best to get Sutter to hand it over, but I doubt the judge will go for it.” 

“Don’t worry about that.  If it comes to it, I’ll find a way to get it for you.” 

“Ah, ah.  I don’t want to hear anything more.  You’re talking about collusion.” 

Harvey had to laugh at that.  “What do you call this?”  He gestured between them.  “You’re being awfully selective about which lines you’ll cross.” 

Taking a drink of Harvey’s Macallan, Sean squinted at him.  “Maybe this is me being a manipulative ass, but it’s personal.  You’re talking about manipulating a case using highly questionable methods.” 

“Welcome to corporate law.” 

“I honestly don’t know how you live with yourself.” 

Sean was starting to piss Harvey off.  “That’s hilarious, coming from you.” 

Finishing off his scotch, Sean slammed his glass down on the table so hard that Harvey was surprised it didn’t shatter.  “You’d better watch your mouth, Harvey.  You still need something from me.  I don’t expect you to stick around after you get it, but until you do, you had better at least pretend to be on board with our arrangement.” 

What could he say to that?  Harvey eyed the bottle of scotch, but decided he’d had enough tonight.  “I should probably get going.” 

Sean reached across the table and grabbed his wrist.  “No.  Spend the night.” 

“I don’t know … “ 

“Please.  I sleep better when you’re here.” 

As much as he hated to admit it, Harvey wasn’t looking forward to another night alone with his thoughts.  Even when he was arguing with him, at least Sean provided a distraction.  “Fine.  I’ll stay.  Just don’t hog the covers this time. 

****** 

Harvey clutched the headboard, holding on for dear life as Sean pounded into him.  His stamina tonight was ridiculous.  Harvey had jerked himself to completion a good ten minutes ago.  Sean, though, had sped up, and slowed down, and now sped up again, one hand plastered to Harvey’s hip, and the other braced against the wall.  Harvey was exhausted, and only wanted to get some sleep, but Sean couldn’t seem to get enough of him. 

“Jesus,” Sean panted.  “Fuck.  So good.”  He gnawed at Harvey’s shoulder.  “So.  Fucking. Good.”  He slowed to punctuate the three words, and then hit a new gear, driving home with mindless fury, slamming the bed against the wall so hard that Harvey suspected he would receive a strongly worded email from his condo association in the next few days. 

Finally – _finally_ – his arms clutched Harvey’s waist in a vise-like hold, and he sat back on his heels, taking Harvey with him, fucking into him and freezing deep inside, jerking, spasming, cursing nonstop.  His teeth latched on to Harvey’s shoulder, biting down painfully until he stopped moving.  Then, as if in apology, he kissed the same spot, and moved to the back of Harvey’s neck, kissing and murmuring unintelligible words which Harvey could only assume were endearments of some sort. 

It took Sean forever to pull out and let Harvey go.  He at least had the decency to take care of the condom himself this time, and he brought back a damp washcloth from the bathroom, which, he tossed over to Harvey.  He cleaned himself off, closely observed by Sean.  Harvey nearly made a joke about taking a picture to make it last longer, but decided Sean might actually take him up on it.  That was the last thing he wanted. 

“You,” said Sean, crawling into bed beside him, “are a spectacular fuck.” 

“I know.”  He spoke the words flippantly, and chose to ignore the wash of shame Sean’s praise sent through him.  He’d basically held on and let Sean go at him.  He’d be feeling it all day tomorrow. 

“I want you back here tomorrow night.” 

Harvey sighed.  “I’ll be here.” 

“If this Kevin/Sutter thing goes as planned, our time together is going to come to an end sooner rather than later.” 

Harvey knew.  God, did he know.  The expectation of Mike’s release was about the only thing holding him together right now.   “That’s true.” 

“Unless … “  He let the suggestion trail off. 

“Ah, no.  I don’t think so.”  Did Sean seriously think Harvey would stay with him after all this? 

“Pity.”  Sean turned his back on Harvey.  “Try to stay on your side of the bed.  I’m not much for cuddling.” 

 “Noted.”  Harvey could only be happy at this disclosure.  If Sean had tried to hold him in his arms all night, he might have been tempted to take a swing at him. 

****** 

The case was going nowhere fast.  The judge rejected Sean’s request for access to the trading program, and Sean refused to take the copy that Harvey had acquired through shady means.  On the plus side, he’d talked Sean into offering Kevin’s wife immunity. 

He visited Mike again, trying to impress upon him the importance of getting Kevin to talk.  Mike had looked so tired and worn down that it hurt Harvey to look at him.   And then Mike, sharp as ever despite his current situation, had somehow divined Harvey’s arrangement with Sean – not the details, but the outcome.  When Mike asked Harvey to stay away, it nearly broke him.  He had no choice but to agree.  Walking out of there was one of the hardest things he’d done, but soon, he told himself, Mike would be walking out of there too. 

That would make everything he’d done completely worthwhile.  Wouldn’t it? 

****** 

Sean strode into Harvey’s office, grim and determined, and told him the story of his mother, and how Sutter’s dirty trades had ruined her retirement.  “Give me that program,” he concluded.  “I’ve made up my mind.  I’m taking Sutter down, no matter what.” 

Although Sean’s change of heart surprised him, Harvey hastened to comply.   

As had become their habit, Harvey went home with him.  They ate dinner, drank a bit too much, and went to bed.  On this occasion, Sean drove into him with what seemed like an excess of angry energy, pulling Harvey’s hair, and leaving multiple bruises and bite marks all over his body.  The next morning, he woke up feeling like he’d been mugged.  Sean barely spoke two words as they got ready for their days, and Harvey left feeling more like the whore Sean had once named him than he ever had before. 

Halfway through the day, Sean barged into his office again, waving the USB drive at him, and giving him the bad news that he wasn’t making any headway with the data. 

“I’ll give it to Louis,” said Harvey.  “If anyone can figure it out, it’s him.” 

***** 

Louis did figure it out – with help from the traders in the bullpen.   

Unfortunately, Kevin was still waffling, so Harvey made another trip to Danbury to convince him to take Sean’s deal.  Kevin, with his wife’s immunity on the table, agreed to turn on Sutter.   

As Kevin left the interview room, Gallo barged in, demanding to know what Harvey was doing to get him out.  With no compunction whatsoever, Harvey lied to his face, telling him he’d have him out in a few days.  It was Mike he intended to have out in that timeframe (and maybe Kevin too, but Harvey didn’t give a shit about him.) 

The last time Harvey had been here, Mike had all but ordered him not to come back.  But he was here, and Harvey couldn’t leave without seeing Mike too.  As soon as Mike walked into the interview room, Harvey knew something was wrong.  He looked as if he hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours in the past week.  Examining him more closely, he spotted what was unmistakably a hickey on his neck, just at the edge of his collar. 

Mike started talking, arguing about Gallo, and distracting Harvey in the process, so that he forgot to ask him about the mark, but Harvey thought he understood now why Mike had been so reluctant to betray Kevin.  It seemed that they were more than just cellmates. 

****** 

Sean called Harvey to inform him that Kevin had been released from Danbury, and he and his wife were in protective custody.   

“Who are you protecting him from?  Sutter?  He’s an ass, but he wouldn’t hurt his own daughter.” 

“We suspect he has business connections who aren’t going to take kindly to having their names brought up in open court.” 

“What about Mike?” 

“I’m working on it.”  A pause, followed by a sigh on the other end of the phone.  “I have other news.  It’s about Gallo.” 

“What about him?” Harvey asked carefully. 

“Word just came down that he’s getting out on Friday.” 

“You have got to be shitting me.  How?  I never filed that petition.” 

“Ah.  Awkward.  It seems that you’ve been fired.” 

Harvey tapped his pen on the desk, trying to decide how he felt about that.  On the one hand, it had infuriated him to have Gallo as a client.  On the other hand, it had enabled him to control the situation somewhat.  He couldn’t understand why Gallo would fire him at this juncture, since Harvey had assured him he’d have him out this week. 

Then it occurred to him what must have happened.  “Mike,” he muttered. 

“Yeah, that’s what I figured too.  Seems your little buddy did an end around on you.” 

“I’m sure he had his reasons.”  Uneasily, Harvey remembered the mark on Mike’s neck.  Had he jumped to the wrong conclusions as to where Mike got it? 

As he hung up the phone, sick anger filled.  Fucking Gallo.  Knowing who he was, and what he’d done, Mike would never have willingly started up anything with him.  Maybe since Gallo knew he’d be getting out soon, he’d decided to get his revenge on Harvey before he left.  The thought of him touching Mike, putting his filthy hands and mouth on him … Without knowing what he was about to do, he picked up his stapler and hurled it across the room. 

Donna poked her head in the doorway.  “Harvey?  What’s wrong?” 

He eyed her, thinking rapidly.  “Do you have any connections at the Department of Justice?” 

“Two.  No, three.” 

“Great. I need to know the name of the person – or people – who Frank Gallo informed on to get himself moved to Danbury.  Do you think you can get that for me?” 

“Is this for Mike?” 

“Yes.”  It was, but mostly it was for himself.  “I need those names before Friday.” 

****** 

“Damn it, Harvey, answer the question.” 

It was Friday night, and they were at Sean’s apartment.  Harvey had his hand down Sean’s pants and his mouth on Sean’s neck.  He lifted his head.  “Do you want to talk, or do you want to fuck?” 

Harvey wanted to fuck.  He wanted Sean to put him on his knees and drive into him with his huge cock, and fuck away the sick feeling of guilt that wouldn’t let Harvey go.  Maybe Gallo deserved to die, but knowing that he was the one who’d put it in motion had Harvey feeling all kinds of queasy.  He’d done it for Mike, though.  Not to protect him this time, but to avenge him.   

So yeah, all he wanted right now was a good, hard fuck 

Sean, however, had other ideas.  With firm hands, he pushed Harvey away, and glared at him, chest heaving.  “Tell me the truth.  Did you, or did you not have anything to do with Gallo’s murder?” 

“I was in my office all day.  I have witnesses.”  He waited a couple of seconds.  “Satisfied?” 

“How did those guys know the exact date and time of his release?” 

Harvey tightened his jaw and got in Sean’s face.  “If you’re going to accuse me of something, then do it.  If not, either get on board – ”  He gave Sean’s shoulder a shove, sending him stumbling back half a step.  “Or tell me to leave.”  At that point, Harvey wasn’t sure which he wanted. 

Sean hesitated, face flushed with emotion.  He turned away, shaking his head.  “Goddamn it.  You know I don’t have any proof.”  He spun back to face Harvey and pointed a finger at him.  “If I ever find out you had a hand in this, I’m going to bring you in myself.” 

“You’d do that to me?” asked Harvey, voice going soft. He closed the small distance between them and cupped Sean’s face with one hand, leaning in for a lingering kiss.  “Would you?” 

Growling, Sean grabbed Harvey’s lapels and savaged his mouth, half-walking and half-pushing him backwards into the bedroom.  He spun him around and shoved him face down on the bed.  “Don’t you move an inch.” 

Sean sat on him, knees on either side of his thighs, and reached underneath him to unbuckle Harvey’s belt and unfasten his pants.  He yanked his pants and briefs down just far enough to give him access, and then Harvey heard him fumbling with his own pants. 

“I should fuck you raw,” rasped Sean, “just like this, no lube.  Bareback.  Make you pay for all the bullshit you’ve ever pulled on me.” 

Harvey shivered.  He didn’t believe Sean would follow through on those threats, but something about his rage excited him.  Harvey had been bad.  He’d been very, very bad.  He’d hired a fraud, cut a million corners and crossed a million lines.  And after he’d gotten those names from Donna, he’d done exactly what Sean had accused him of.  Maybe he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it – to regret any of it – but if Sean wanted to punish him, he wouldn’t try to stop him. 

All of that went through his head, but he didn’t move, or respond to Sean’s goading.  He heard him sigh.   

“You’re going to be the death of me, Harvey.”  He maneuvered Harvey’s jacket off, reached around to undo his tie, pulled it off, and then shocked Harvey by dragging his arms behind his back and tying his wrists together with his own designer tie. 

“The fuck?” He lifted his head from the pillow and looked over his shoulder.  Sean’s eyes had gone unfocused, and he seemed to stare right through Harvey.  “I didn’t agree to this.” 

Sean’s gaze snapped back into focus.  “Shut the hell up, or I’ll gag you too.”  His gaze darted to the nightstand, where he’d left the lube and condoms.  “Beg me not to hurt you.” 

“You just told me to shut up.” 

He grabbed Harvey’s hair, pulling his head back until he grunted from the pain.  “Beg me.  Unless that’s what you want.” 

 _Was it_?  No, Harvey decided, it wasn’t.  Not like this.  Not when Sean was so angry.  He forced down his pride, surprised at the fight it put up after all he’d already done, and shut his eyes.  “Please, Sean.  I know you don’t want to hurt me.” 

“You know that, huh?  Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” 

Despite his words, Harvey heard Sean reach for a condom, heard the crinkle of foil as he tore the packet open.  There was no careful prep this time.  He rolled on the condom, lubed himself up, yanked Harvey’s hips up to get him on his knees, and then Harvey felt the press of his head at his entrance.  He bit down on his lower lip, bracing himself.  Sean shoved in, met resistance, gave a frustrated grunt, pulled back, and shoved in again. 

“Aaah, God,” groaned Harvey.  It felt like he’d been split wide open.  “Jesus, that fucking hurts.” 

Maybe Sean felt bad, because he held still, kissing the back of Harvey’s neck and reaching around to give his cock a few rough strokes.  “You brought it on yourself,” he whispered.  “I know I’ll never be able to prove it, but I know what you did.”  He slowly withdrew, and just as slowly eased back in. 

“Sean …” 

“No.  You don’t have to say anything.  I don’t expect you to confess, or even ask forgiveness.” He fucked in and out several times, moaning into Harvey’s ear.  “But I am going to punish you.  Can you guess how?” 

Harvey shifted, trying to lessen the pressure on his shoulders.  Sean was picking up speed, pumping away with his usual artless abandon.  “Like this?”  As the minutes passed, it felt less and less like punishment. 

Sean didn’t say anything more.  He went at Harvey like a man possessed.  With his wrists tied, Harvey couldn’t protect himself from hitting the headboard, or reach for his cock to jerk himself off.  Sean showed one bit of mercy when he wedged a pillow between Harvey’s head and the bedframe.  As for the rest of it, he didn’t seem inclined to give Harvey his release.   

He pounded away, letting out the occasional exclamation or guttural sound of approval.  As he reached his climax, his fingers dug cruelly into Harvey’s shoulders.   He froze, buried deep inside of Harvey, panting and cursing, and wringing out the last bit of his orgasm.  Eventually, he slumped onto Harvey’s back.  When he’d caught his breath, he raised up onto his elbows and untied Harvey’s wrists.   

“As always,” said Sean in a voice devoid of warmth, “you took it like a real champ.” 

Wincing, Harvey rolled onto his back and pulled up his pants.  “So was that it?  That was your punishment?” 

“Come on, Harvey, don’t you think I have a little more imagination?  No guesses?”  He got up and disposed of the condom.  Returning fully dressed, like Harvey, he stood beside the bed and glared down at him.  “Maybe it will help if I remind you who has the power to make and break deals.  Ah, I see you’ve figured it out.  That’s right.  Mike Ross will not be going anywhere soon.” 

Rage left Harvey speechless for a few seconds.  “You son of a bitch,” he ground out.  “Mike hasn’t done anything to you.  Don’t even think of yanking that deal.” 

“But what has he done, really?  Louis cracked the case for us.  Mike couldn’t even get Kevin to turn on Sutter.  That was all you.” 

“And I never would have bothered if you hadn’t promised to get Mike out.” 

“Hm.  Well, I suppose that is true.”  Sean paced in front of the bed, eying Harvey every so often.  Finally, he stopped, hands in his pockets.  “I guess I’ll let him go.”  He held up a finger, halting Harvey before he could express his thanks.  “Not right away, though.  I think you’re going to have to work for it.” 

“Work for it how, exactly?  I’m already here every night.  You’ve got me, Sean.  What the hell else do you want?” 

“Do I have you?  Sometimes it seems like your body is here, but your mind is a million miles away.  I’m not asking for a lot.  I just want to feel like you’re into me maybe a tenth as much as I’m into you.” 

 _But he wasn’t._ “And how do you propose I accomplish that?” 

“You’re a smart guy.  Figure it out.” 

“Or what?” 

“Or Mike will stay right where he is indefinitely.” 

“Sean, you had better be joking right now.” 

“It’s all in your hands, Harvey.  I want two weeks of you and me.  Come when I call, do whatever I ask, and Mike goes free.  Give me the slightest reason to doubt your sincerity, and he serves his full sentence.” 

Harvey was growing sick to death of Sean and all of his deals and bargains and demands.   “Mike has seen both Kevin and Gallo leave this week.  He’s going to wonder what he’s still doing there.  What am I supposed to tell him?” 

“Nothing.  You’re not allowed to visit him again.” 

“But what if he calls me?” 

“Don’t take the call.” 

 _Like that would ever happen._   Harvey nodded, pretending to go along with all of Sean’s terms.  “You have a deal.  I’m warning you right now, if you go back on this one, we are going to have a serious problem.” 

“I promise I won’t.”  He eyed Harvey as if considering his next move.  “I’m going to call the Thai place down the block.  Any requests?” 

“Whatever.  It’s fine.” 

“That’s what I like to hear.  When I get back, I want you naked.  I neglected to get you off just now.  So while we wait for our food to arrive, I’m going to watch you do exactly that. 

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” 

****** 

Sean pulled a chair up to the side of the bed, and sat, glass of scotch in hand, to watch Harvey masturbate.  He murmured encouragement, and offered suggestions, and when Harvey arched up and came explosively, he set down the glass and gave him a slow round of applause.  “We are definitely doing that again,” he declared. 

The buzzer rang.  “Dinner’s here.  Get yourself cleaned up and then come on out to eat with me.”  He headed out of the bedroom, but stopped in the doorway, sipping his drink and eyeing Harvey.  “Let me hear it.” 

“Hear what?” asked Harvey testily. 

“Tell me how much you love pleasing me.” 

 _Think of Mike._ “Sure.  Affirmative.” 

“Better work on your delivery.” 

What Harvey wanted to deliver was his fist to Sean’s face.  He smiled sweetly.  “I live to please.” 

“Good.  Let me tell you how you'll be pleasing me during your lunch hour, for the next two weeks.” 

****** 

Harvey clunked his head on the underside of Sean’s desk, and cursed lowly.  “You need to get a taller desk,” he bitched.  “Or a shorter whore.” 

“It hurts me to hear you put yourself down, Harvey.  Just hurry it up.  My assistant is at lunch, but if she gets back and finds the door locked, it's going to turn into a whole thing.” 

Harvey swallowed him down, hoping that would shut him up.  It did, for a few minutes, but ever since their latest deal had been reached three days ago, Sean had turned mean-spirited and annoyingly verbose. 

“Shit, Harvey, they should license that mouth as a lethal weapon.  And that tongue.  You really missed your calling, baby.”  He thrust up, and Harvey leaned his forearms on his legs to hold him in place.  He was having enough trouble already, avoiding banging his head on the solid wooden desk. 

Harvey hummed, and jacked him furiously, using every trick he knew to speed Sean’s orgasm.   

“I do like your enthusiasm.  Yeah, that’s good.”  Sean's broad hands cupped Harvey’s head, pushing him further down, and holding him in place while he jerked up and up.  “You gonna swallow it?” 

Harvey couldn’t answer, with his mouth currently stuffed full of Sean’s cock.  He nodded once, hoping Sean would feel it, and get the message. 

“You ruin my suit,” panted Sean, “and Mike gets an extra week.” 

Harvey nearly bit down upon hearing the threat.  He felt Sean tense at that moment, and closed his lips around the head of his cock, catching every bit of his release in his mouth and swallowing it down.  When Sean was finished he pulled out and Harvey grimaced, making a mental note to carry breath mints with him in the future. 

“Zip me up and you can get out of here and back to work.” 

Harvey zipped him up, and climbed out from underneath the desk. 

“Wait,” said Sean, with a hand on Harvey’s arm.  “Before you go, call me darling.  Just this once.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Sean motioned towards his own ear, eyebrows waggling.  “Like you mean it.  And I’ll take a kiss before you go.” 

“Darling,” said Harvey, putting as much feeling into it as he could manage, which wasn't much.  He leaned over Sean, braced his hands on the arms of his chair, and kissed him slowly, letting him taste himself inside of Harvey’s mouth.   

When he pulled away, Sean had an odd look on his face.  “Okay,” he said.  “You can go.  Be at my place no later than seven.” 

****** 

Harvey had not signed on for this, but Sean had decided he wanted to indulge a kink he’d never tried before.   He silently calculated the days left, both for Mike, and for this increasingly sick thing between him and Sean to come to an end.  It had been four days, which left ten more days, providing he remembered to swallow every piece of shit Sean threw at him. 

He looked up from where he sat on the edge of the bed, and watched Sean watching him, holding his newly purchased toy, and tapping it lightly against one palm.  “We could just put on gloves and get in the ring," Harvey suggested wearily.  "That way I’d have the chance to hit back.” 

“What if I don’t want you to hit back?  What if I want to swing away until your ass is hot, and throbbing, and red as a ripe tomato, and then slide in and fuck you until you scream.”  He slapped the leather paddle against his palm.  “Maybe I want to break you, and see you cry.  Do you think I could do that?  Would you cry for me?  Would you break?” 

Harvey stared down at his hands where they hung between his knees.  He was so tired of all this.  Every day brought some new humiliation from Sean.  Where was this all leading, he wondered?  Did Sean have some bizarre endgame in mind, or did he simply want to fuck with Harvey for as long as he was able?   

“Look,” said Harvey, “I’ll give you this.  One time only.  And you’re not going to come back tomorrow with some other toy.  Tonight, you can spank my ass to your heart’s content.” 

"That's the plan.  I’ll spank you until I judge that you’ve had enough, and then I’ll fuck you.”  He paused.  “Oh, and one other thing.” 

Harvey didn’t want to hear what that “one other thing” was, but he asked anyway.  “And what would that be?” 

“I get to record the whole thing.” 

“Oh no.  Fuck no.  Do I look like an idiot?” 

“Do I?  Baby, I’ll be in the shot too.  I wouldn’t want this leaked any more than you would.  I only want something to remind me of our time together.”  His gaze grew calculating.  “Let me have this, and I’ll shave an entire week off of Mike’s time.” 

Harvey groaned out loud.  Sean knew how to play him, no doubt about it.  A whole week.  Mike could be home by Friday.  It seemed like forever since he’d seen him, although it had only been a week.  He stared at Sean, trying to gauge his sincerity.  As a U.S. Attorney, allowing his little video to go public would certainly harm his career more than it would Harvey’s.  Maybe having a reminder he could refer back to in the future was what Sean needed to let Harvey go. 

With gargantuan misgivings, Harvey nodded his assent.  “Take your little porno if you must.  Two things, though.  My face is never visible, and if anybody but you and I ever see that thing, I will fucking destroy you.” 

Looking positively gleeful, Sean busied himself positioning his phone and starting the recording.  He rolled up his sleeves and ordered Harvey, who was already naked, on his hands and knees. 

 Harvey arranged himself with his ass toward the camera.  He grabbed a pillow and pressed his face to it, reducing the chance of anyone recognizing him from the video to practically zero. 

Sean didn’t object.  He stepped behind Harvey and gave him an experimental swat, which he barely felt.  The next one landed with a great deal more force.  Harvey flinched, but held in any sounds of distress. 

The spanking went on for a long time.  Harvey lost count somewhere around twenty-five hits.  His ass felt like it was on fire.  He kept his lips stubbornly pressed together, holding in most of his periodic grunts of pain.   

“Break for me, baby,” Sean urged with another blistering swing.  “You’ve earned every single one of these, and you know it.”  And a few minutes later, “Break, you goddamned son of a bitch.” 

By then, it was tempting.  Would Sean stop if Harvey fell apart?  Pride kept him together for another ten minutes, and then it grew too much.  He couldn’t do this anymore.  He’d reached his limit.   

“Stop,” he gasped 

“Ask me nicely.”  Sean kept swinging. 

“No more, Sean.  Stop.  I’m done.  It’s over.” 

Sean hit him one more time, and without warning, white hot rage swept through Harvey.  With a roar, he surged up and launched himself at Sean.  His momentum carried them both to the floor, knocked over Sean’s phone, and sent it skidding underneath the bed.   

Harvey got off one clean punch to Sean’s chin, but he grabbed Harvey’s arms, and rolled them both over.  As soon as Harvey’s beaten ass touched the floor, he howled, and his grip on Sean loosened.  Taking advantage, Sean pummeled Harvey’s face, left and right and left.  He was sitting on him, using his slightly greater weight to anchor Harvey in place. 

Harvey’s boxing training kicked in, and he raised his arms, shielding his face.  This resulted in a series of rabbit punches to the side of his head that left him dizzy and disoriented.  Sean seemed to be lost in a rage episode that blocked everything else from his awareness.  He punched and slapped at Harvey’s head.  Growing frustrated he, grabbed Harvey’s wrists, and managed to pull his hands away from his face.  Before he could get off another shot, Harvey surprised him by rolling quickly away, yanking his wrists free in the process. 

Sean jumped to his feet and kicked Harvey in the ribs twice, and then bellowed as Harvey took hold of his ankle and flipped him onto his back.  If Harvey had been clothed, he might have chosen that moment to run for it, pride be damned.   

He made it to his feet, stumbling and lurching as he fought for balance.  Moving more quickly than Harvey had guessed he could, Sean was back on his feet and shoving Harvey against the wall. 

“Sean,” gasped Harvey.  “Stop. Think about what you’re doing.” 

“I’m kicking your ass, you lying, manipulative son of a bitch.” 

“I’m not the liar.”  Harvey dodged Sean’s fist, and eyed his clothes longingly.  They were all the way on the other side of the room. 

“You used me to get what you wanted.”   

“So this is your solution?  I guess you’re just like your father after all.”  Harvey knew as soon as he’d said the words that they were a mistake. 

Sean backhanded him viciously, once, and then again.  Harvey’s head made an audible thud as it struck the wall.  “Fuck you, Harvey.  I showed you how good it could be between us, and you threw it all back, like it was nothing.  Like I was nothing.  You don’t do that to people who care about you.” 

“That’s not true,” Harvey panted, head ringing.  “I mean, I do care about you." 

Sean smacked him again, harder than before.  Harvey made a feeble grab for his wrists, and missed. 

“It should be me,” yelled Sean, and spittle hit Harvey's face.  “Not Mike Ross.  You’re too good for him.  I should be the one that you love, not him.”  A portion of sanity had returned to his eyes.  He stared helplessly back at Harvey for long seconds before shoving him against the wall and then letting go.   

Harvey realized he was trembling.  His face throbbed, his ass throbbed, and he wasn’t one hundred percent certain that Sean hadn’t broken a rib. 

“We’re done,” Harvey gasped out.  “This is over.  I’m never going to feel what you want me to feel.  There’s no endgame here for you.”  He paused.  “Unless you intend to beat me to death?” 

“Get out.  Get the fuck out of my sight.” 

That sounded like a great idea.  Harvey slipped carefully past Sean, gathered up his clothes, and carried them to the front door.  He kept one eye on the bedroom as he set a record scrambling back into his clothes.   

Once he was dressed, and feeling less vulnerable, he debated the wisdom of going back in to say one more thing that needed to be said.  He’d never been a coward before, and he wasn’t about to start now, so he walked back to the bedroom door. 

Sean sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, looking about as miserable as anyone Harvey had ever seen. 

“Sean?” he asked cautiously. 

“I thought I told you to leave.”  He sounded utterly defeated. 

Hoping he wouldn't set Sean off again, Harvey said, “If our friendship ever meant anything to you, promise me one thing.” 

Sean expelled an aggravated sigh.  “You don’t have to say it.  I know what you want.  You win, Harvey.  Your beloved Mike Ross will walk out of prison a free man on Friday.”  When Harvey didn’t immediately leave, he raised his head and gave him a hostile glare.  “What do you want me to do?  Pinkie swear?  You have my word.  End of story.  Now leave me alone.” 

Harvey felt an unexpected wave of pity for Sean.  He knew Sean wouldn’t appreciate that, so he kept his mouth shut, and got the hell out of there.  Another time, he might have given a whoop of joy in the hallway, but he was exhausted, he hurt everywhere, and he felt like the biggest asshole on the planet for what he’d done to Sean.  Ultimately, he’d gotten what he wanted, but it had cost him so much, including his dignity, and the friendship of a good man. 

****** 

Harvey dabbed on more antiseptic and stepped back to frown at himself in his bathroom mirror.  His face was a mass of cuts and bruises.  He knew from experience that his appearance would only get worse over the next couple of days.  There was no way he could drive up to Danbury and face Mike looking like this.  He'd have to send Ray, and come up with an excuse for his own absence.  With any luck, Mike would never know all that he had done to get him out. 

His face needed at least another week – possibly more – before it went back to something approaching normal.  As for the rest of it, he didn’t know when, or even if, he would feel normal again.  He’d crossed too many lines with Sean.  He’d done it all to get Mike back home, but in the process he’d turned into someone unrecognizable.   

He'd turned himself into a monster, and if Mike ever learned how low he'd gone, Harvey couldn't blame him if he never wanted to see him again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ch. 3, called "Reconciliation," will take up the story just after Mike leaves prison.


	3. Reconciliation

Ray tried to strike up a conversation on the drive home from Danbury, but Mike wasn't in the mood for small talk.  He couldn't even dredge up the strength to quiz Ray about what the hell was going on with Harvey.  Maybe he was afraid to hear that his absence today had something to do with Sean Cahill.

Half an hour down the freeway, Mike’s attention was caught by what appeared to be a fragment of yellow plastic crime scene tape, caught in the low bushes next to the shoulder.  Harvey hadn't told him the exact spot where Gallo was shot, but a sustained chill went through him as they passed the fluttering flash of yellow, and he just knew.

******

It didn't feel real, this abrupt return to freedom, even as short as his actual time inside had been.  He tried to imagine the toll years, or decades, would take on a person, but couldn't wrap his head around it.  He'd never understood the mindset that caused Brooks, the elderly parolee from _Shawshank Redemption,_ to take his own life after his release following fifty years inside.  He should have been celebrating, not moping. 

Mike closed the car door and watched Ray drive away, leaving him alone on the sidewalk, and he caught the faintest inkling of what old Brooks had been feeling.

He knew the moment he opened the door to the apartment that Rachel was gone.  The air tasted stale and abandoned.  Looking around, he spotted the empty places where her things had been: the clear space on the mantle where she'd set her family portraits and the celadon vase she kept filled with fresh flowers.  Half the kitchen cupboards stood open, as if she'd wanted him to see the bare shelves, now devoid of her designer pots and pans. 

Moving into the bedroom, he peered into the closet, finding it two-thirds empty.  Rachel had stripped the bed and taken the sheets and blanket and comforters, and most of the pillows, decorative and otherwise, which used to bounce and slide to the floor when they made love.  In a typical, thoughtful Rachel touch, she'd left a new "bed-in-a-bag" on the mattress, consisting of matching sheets, comforter, and pillow cases, still zipped up in a clear, plastic container. 

He found her letter on top of the dresser, weighted down by her engagement ring.  Picking up the ring, he ran his thumb over it's cool angles and facets.  He'd cried when he gave her that rang.  Now, his eyes remained bone dry as he calculated how much he could get for it, and how long that would support him until he could figure out what to do with his life.

Clutching the letter, he flopped down on the mattress and stared up at the ceiling, wondering what graffiti he might scratch in the paint, if he was Brooks or Red.  He was neither, though.  He was Andy Dufresne – except unlike Andy, he'd been guilty as hell.  And he'd had Harvey to fight for him.  He hadn't had to tunnel through cement walls and dirt, and crawl through a sewer to gain his freedom. 

Although, metaphorically speaking, perhaps he'd followed his own sewer to freedom.

He grimaced as memories of nights with Frank Gallo intruded on his thoughts, and gave his head a rough shake, as if that could dislodge them.  Predictably, it didn't work. 

Gallo had been a strange man – a bundle of contradictions.  Violent and homicidal, according to Harvey.  Vindictive and cruel.  But when he'd had Mike at his most vulnerable, he'd shown flashes of kindness, and even tenderness. 

And now he was dead.  How must that have felt, to finally have gained his freedom, to be happy and triumphant and already planning his future, and then – snuffed out, just like that.  Had he seen it coming?  Had he had half a second to regret his life choices?  Had he spared a thought for Mike Ross in the instant before his death? 

Mike didn't know how to feel about any of it, so he sought to distract himself, lifting Rachel's letter and reading. 

_"Mike, Harvey passed the news along, that you are getting out on Friday.  I'm pleased for you.  Harvey looks like he fought the whole penal system to free you._

_"It can't come as any surprise to you that I've moved out.  I knew as soon as you called our wedding off, and left me in the church to drive off with Harvey, that I would always come in a distant second.  It seems like I spent most of our time together watching you and Harvey drop everything, and cross every line, for one another._

_"I'm working on getting a transfer to Stanford.  Jessica okayed it.  I'm still obligated to return to the firm to work for her, but my hope is that by then I'll be able to look at Harvey (and risk running into you) without feeling like I'm going to crack into a million pieces.  Maybe someday I'll meet someone who is willing to fight for me the way Harvey did for you.  Or someone who will sacrifice everything, like you did for Harvey._

_“(Although, the way things are headed, there may be no firm to return to.  Time will tell.)_

_"Be happy, if you can.  And if you can't be happy, at least try to stay out of trouble._

_"Rachel._

_"P.S.  I left a week's worth of meals for you in the freezer."_

"She needs to work on her vindictive rage," muttered Mike, tossing the letter aside.  He resumed his scrutiny of the ceiling, thoughts drifting between remorse for Rachel, and regret for what he might have had with Harvey, if prison, and Gallo, and Cahill, had not all interfered. 

Once more, he was back in that cramped closet that smelled of cleaning supplies and sex, trading himself for Harvey's safety.  He let the memories play out, trying to view them with detachment, like a film running inside his head, but he could still feel Gallo's hands on him, could feel him buried inside of him, and could hear him whispering, and moaning, and …

Mike rolled over and jammed a pillow over his ear.  It didn't block anything out.  Mercifully, his exhaustion caught up to him, and he slid into a restless sleep.

******

_He teetered on a chair, using his fingernails to mark the wall, right up near the ceiling.  "Mike Ross was here."  Smears of blood marred the paint, but he laboriously scratched the final letters.  Before he could fully appreciate his work, the chair wobbled, and he lost his balance.  He fell --_

Mike jerked up, blinking sleep away, and peering around the shadowy cell … no, not a cell.  Room.  His room at home.  His and Rachel's.  Except Rachel was gone.

He sat on the edge of the bed and scrubbed a hand through his hair.  Glancing up at the ceiling, relief filled him to discover no bloody letters there.  He gave a weak laugh.  _Just a stupid dream_.

Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was after seven.  His stomach growled, and he remembered that Rachel had stocked the freezer for him.  He went out to the kitchen and grabbed the first foil-wrapped dish he found.  She'd even labeled everything, including heating instructions.  She may just as well have written, _"Rachel takes the high road, fuck you very much."_

He stuck the enchiladas in the oven and set the timer.  Lifting his shirt collar, he sniffed, imagining he could smell prison, and the church where he'd been supposed to get married, and whatever dusty storage room they'd kept his clothes in for the past month.  He decided to take a shower while he waited for dinner to cook.

******

It had been more than three years since Mike had dialed the number.  He figured there was a good chance that it no longer belonged to a gravelly voiced stoner named Stooge, but the wrecked voice that answered was clearly recognizable as that very person.

"Hey," said Mike, feeling a jolt of anxiety, "it's Brooklyn Mike."  What he was doing could potentially land him back in prison – with a longer sentence, and not at a white collar facility like Danbury.  He'd been awake for three days, though, subsisting on the lasagna, and stroganoff, and meatloaf he pulled out of the freezer, and he was desperate for sleep. 

Rachel had left behind half a dozen bottles of her snooty wine, but he drank that sparingly, having no wish to deal with a vicious wine hangover.  That’s what he told himself.  In reality, he had other ideas on how to shut off his mind.

"Shit.  Mikey!  I thought you'd disappeared for good."

"Do you still deliver?"

"You still right down the block?"

"Ah, no.  I suppose I'm Manhattan Mike now."  He rattled off his address.

"You're in luck.  I've got an associate in the neighborhood.  His name's Howard.  Half an hour?"

"Sounds good."  Mike hung up the phone, and only then remembered that he'd need more than the five dollars in his wallet to pay Howard.  He checked the kitchen drawer where he and Rachel had kept a ready supply of cash, and discovered a thick stack of twenties.

It began to annoy him, how thoughtful she'd been.

******

When asked, Howard provided a packet of papers to go with the plastic bag of pot, and Mike tipped him generously.  He scrounged up some matches, and sat on the couch to roll five fat joints.  Before he partook, he examined himself for doubts about what he was doing, could not detect any, and lit up, inhaling his first lungful of pot in three years or more. 

Once he'd smoked steadily through the joint, he reclined on the couch, turned the television on, and flipped through the channels, settling on a _Law and Order_ marathon.  "I would have run circles around you, McCoy," he muttered, and started giggling. 

He pulled another dish from the freezer – only three remained – and heated it up.  Mac and cheese, this time.  He ate until his stomach protested, and then fired up another joint.  Once he had finished that, it was nearly midnight, and he judged it to be imperative that he give good old Harvey Specter a call.

Harvey did not pick up, so Mike left a voicemail.

"I'm home, you bastard.  I mean … shit, no, that didn't come out right.  You're a magnificent bastard, because you got me out, and I'm home."  He held the phone away from his face and snickered until he got control of himself.  "I feel like I'm repeating myself.  But the gist … the crux … no, the point of this call is to say thank you.  You and your boyfriend did me a solid, and I won't forget it.  Because I can't.  Forget, that is."

He paused to moisten his dry mouth with a sip of wine.  "And that is a problem, man.  Hence, I am highasfuck.  Hence.  Hence.  That's a strange word.  What was I saying?  I forgot … Oh yeah, the problem is I can't forget."  He giggled.  "Irony.  Suck it, Alanis."

A tone sounded, signaling that his time was up.  Undeterred, he dialed Harvey's number again.  "So, is this it?  Is this the end of us?  Are you with him right now?  I want you to understand something.  You deserve to be happy.  If Sean Cahill makes you happy, then god bless.  Mazel tov."  He sat staring glumly into space, listening to dead air, until the tone sounded in his ear again and he was disconnected.

He lay perfectly still for long minutes, phone propped on his shoulder.  Then he hit redial, and left another message.  "I should feel ecstatic, to be out of prison so soon.  But … I don't know, Harvey.  I feel empty inside.  Empty and … tainted.  No, wait.  Shit.  I retract that last part.  It's just … I can't sleep.  These thoughts just keep bouncing around in my head, like, not regret actually, just what could I have done diff – "

_Beep._

"Fuck."  He closed his eyes and ordered himself to sleep.  That did no good.  He watched, eyes dry and itchy, while McCoy lost yet another case.  Hoping that the death of a few more brain cells would do the trick, he smoked half of the third joint.  After that, he drifted in a blank sort of limbo, heart beating too fast in his chest, wishing that he'd stopped after the second joint. 

******

The smoke alarm beeped shrilly, and he leaped up, disoriented, and ran into the kitchen to find it filled with smoke.  When had he put something else in the oven?  It appeared to be baked ziti, which had bubbled over the side of the pan and landed on the heating element on the bottom of the oven.  He turned off the oven, and removed the pan, only just remembering to grab the pot holders first.

Still hungry, he found a bag of corn chips in the cupboard, and went back to give Jack McCoy more shit.

******

At three thirty in the morning, he dialed Harvey's number again.

“Zihuatanejo,” he whispered, and hung up, dissolving in laughter.  After a time, he began to worry that Harvey wouldn’t understand, so he called back.  “Trust me,” he said, “that was hilarious.”

His phone warbled, signaling an incoming call, and Mike nearly dropped it.  It was Harvey. 

"Fuck.  There you are," he whispered into the still open voicemail.  "I'm sorry.  I thought I wanted to talk to you, but I can't.  I can't sleep.  I can't talk to you.  I'm sorry."  He disconnected.

His phone bleeped to indicate that he had a voicemail.  He debated what to do.  Listen to it?  Delete it?  Turn off his phone?  Hide it in the kitchen?  Throw it out the window?

In the end, he couldn't _not_ listen to Harvey's message.

_"Damn it, Mike.  What are you doing?  Why would you risk going back to prison?  Don't be an idiot.  Throw that shit away and get some sleep."  A long, hissing sigh, that sounded as if Harvey was as exhausted as Mike.  "I'm not seeing Sean anymore.  We had … words.  I'm just drowning in work right now.  I'm sorry to hear that you can't sleep.  Trust me, you will eventually.  And you'll feel better afterwards."_

_A short pause.  "You have your whole life ahead of you.  Make smart choices."  Harvey huffed out a laugh.  "Cliché, I know.  I … to answer your question, no, this isn't the end of us.  Give me some time to get some things in order.  In the meantime, you're going to be okay."  Another pause.  "Sleep.  That's an order."_

The message eased something inside of Mike that had drawn painfully tighter as each day passed.  Harvey had said it would be okay, and he and ordered Mike to sleep.  He flushed the remaining weed and then, with permission to let go, he fell into exhausted slumber, and slept for fourteen hours.

******

The next morning, Donna showed up at Mike’s door.  She wrapped him up in a suffocating hug, and pushed past him to scan the apartment.  Dirty dishes covered the coffee table, and three empty liquor bottles stood in a row on the kitchen counter, clearly visible from the living room.

She turned her attention to Mike, who wore only wrinkled boxers and a stained t-shirt.

"Looks like it was some party," she commented.

"Yep.  A real barn burner."  He stumbled to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.  When he turned to face her, she was still staring at him.  "What?  Please don't do that creepy 'I'm Donna' woo-woo thing."

"That's not what I do."  She pursed her mouth, eyes troubled.  "We need to do something about Harvey."

Mike crossed his arms and glared at the floor.  "What do you mean, 'do'?  What's going on?"

"Mike, he took three days off.  Take a minute and let that sink in.  He never even takes vacation.  Two days before you got out, Harvey called in sick.  I thought he might have taken the day to get you settled, but Ray says Harvey didn't go up to Danbury to get you.  And then he took Monday off, too.  I got in early Tuesday morning, and there he was, trying to sneak out after working most of the night.  It was like the freaking phantom of the opera or something.  His face looked like he'd been beat to shit, and he was moving funny."

Mike threw up his hands and shook his head.  "You know Harvey.  Maybe one of his sparring sessions got out of control.  Maybe he got in a bar fight.  You and I both know he has a temper."

"That wouldn't stop him from showing up to work.  He'd wear those bruises like a badge of honor."

Something prodded Mike's memory.  "Huh.  That must be what Rachel was talking about."

"Rachel?"

He frowned.  "Yeah.  In the letter she left me.  Something about how Harvey looked like he'd fought the entire penal system.  I didn't realize she meant it literally."

"I suppose it could be that he and Sean Cahill finally came to blows.  Things got tense between them toward the end.  I couldn't even mention the man's name without Harvey biting me head off."

"Anyway," said Mike, anxious to change the subject, "if Harvey wants to see me, he knows where I am."

"You should call him."

Recalling the series of voice mails he'd left, Mike turned away to hide his blush.  "We've been playing phone tag.  Hey, will you look at that?  Coffee's done.  Would you like a cup?"

"No thanks."

He busied himself fixing a mug.

"Mike."

"Hm?"  He turned around to face her.

"I'm really glad you're out."

"Thanks, Donna."

"If you can, take some time to figure out what you want to do next."

"I can, and I will."

"And I'm sorry about Rachel."

"Don't be.  It was for the best.  Hey.  What about Harvey?"

“Where do you think I’m going next?”  She went in for another hug.  As she pulled away, she poked him in the chest and whispered, nose wrinkling, "Take a shower."

******

Mike took a shower.  As the hot water rinsed away his funk, he thought about what Donna had said.  What had happened to Harvey that had kept him out of work?  He'd seen him go toe to toe with plenty of people, Cahill included.  His opponents usually backed down, or someone – Mike himself on several memorable occasions – pulled Harvey away.  It was like a well-choreographed dance. 

Mike had always assumed that Harvey would come out the victor in any fight he got into.  It disconcerted him to think of a beaten Harvey, too embarrassed to show his face around the firm.

And what did Sean Cahill have to do with it? 

Mike hadn't been out of the apartment since he'd gotten home.  He had nearly come to the end of the food Rachel had left for him, and he needed to stock up.  While he was out, he decided he would make a side trip to the federal building.  He had a thank you he’d just decided should be delivered in person.  Perhaps he could get some questions answered at the same time.

******

If Mike had taken a moment to think about what he was doing, he might have realized how uncomfortable it would make him to walk back into the building where he’d been hauled after his arrest.  He was on a mission, though, and kept moving. 

He found Sean Cahill in his office, with the door open, and stood in the doorway staring at him with dawning understanding.  Cahill had a dark. colorful bruise on his chin, and his knuckles were bruised and scabbed over in several places.  When he looked up and saw Mike in his doorway, anger flashed in his eyes.

“Mike Ross.  You’re the last person I ever expected to see here.”

“What happened between you and Harvey?”  He only meant to ask about the fight he suspected they’d had, and realized too late that his question implied that he knew much more about their past relationship.

“I hardly see how that is any of your business.”

Mike shuffled his feet, searching for a graceful way to make a rapid exit.  This had been a bad idea.

Cahill leaned back in his chair, smirking.  “But if you’re here for all the juicy details, all you have to do is ask.”

“I actually just came by to say thanks,” he lied. 

“Oh, don’t thank me.  It’s Harvey you should be thanking.  He did all the work.”

“Ah.  Okay.  My mistake.  I’ll get out of your – ”

“Right here for instance.”

“I don’t … “

Cahill stood up and waved him over.  “Come here.  I want to show you something.”

Mike approached reluctantly, one eye on Cahill, and the other on the place on the floor he indicated.

Cahill pointed underneath his desk.  “See that spot?  Right there, Mike.  That’s where I put Harvey on his knees last week and he gave me probably the best blow job of my life.”

Mike went cold all over.  His tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of his mouth.

Tilting his head to one side, Cahill tapped a finger to his chin, as if considering.  “Or, no, maybe it was the one in my living room.  He still had his bespoke suit on, tie knotted to perfection.  Made a real mess of it when I came on his face, and he came in his pants.  He sure seemed to get off on the whole thing.”

“You’re lying,” Mike breathed.  That didn’t sound like Harvey at all, leastways not the one Mike had fantasized about all these years.

“Am I?”  He stepped up to Mike, close enough that he could smell the sour scent of his sweat.  “Ask him yourself, if you don’t believe me.  I had him every way you can think if, and some ways you can’t.”  He glanced at the hallway, as if making sure they were alone, and pulled his phone out of his pocket.  “You want to see something?”

Mike wanted to say, no, he did not.  He wanted his feet to start moving and get him the hell out of there.  All that he could manage was a slow shake of his head, back and forth, denying his interest in whatever it was that Cahill was queuing up on his phone.

“This is how I had your precious Harvey.  Don’t turn away, Mike.  Look.”

A rhythmic smacking sound came from the phone’s speakers.  Against his best judgement, Mike’s eyes lifted to see what was on the screen.  He recognized Cahill, fully clothed, wielding a paddle.  A naked man on his knees, with his ass in the air, was taking the punishment.  It could have been anyone.  His face was hidden.  Mike tried to convince himself that it wasn’t Harvey, that Cahill just wanted to fuck with his head.

“Nice try,” he scoffed.  “I don’t know who that is – ”

“Let’s fast forward a bit and find out.”  Cahill’s finger moved over the screen, and Mike saw the time counter jump forward, five, ten, fifteen minutes.  “Right … about … here.”

The spanking continued, but now a familiar voice begged Cahill to stop.  Mike flinched as the kneeling man rose and whirled to face the camera in one swift, graceful movement.  His face was in the frame for less than a second, before the scene tilted wildly and went black.  There could be no doubt about what Mike was seeing.  It was Harvey.

Cahill stopped the video and stuck his phone back in his pocket.  “Whenever I need a little pick me up during my day, a few minutes of Harvey Specter getting his ass beat – by me – is all I need to improve my attitude.”

“Word is,” said Mike, ignoring the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, “that someone beat more than his ass.”

Cahill drew down the corners of his mouth and nodded his head.  “That I did.  To be fair, he started it.”

“I can see why.”

“That?  The spanking?  He agreed to it, one hundred percent.  Don’t look so shocked, Mike.  I wish I could say it was my charm and good looks, but the truth is, he did it all for you.”

Mike didn’t know what to say to that.  He stared at Cahill.

“That was the price for your freedom.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that he sold himself, body and soul, to me, which is why you’re standing here right now with that stupid, cow-eyed look on your face, instead of peeling potatoes in prison, where you belong.”

******

Mike somehow stumbled out of Cahill’s office, and located the men’s room, before he dropped to his knees in one of the stalls and vomited up every single thing in his stomach.  He wanted to believe that everything Cahill had said was a lie, but how could he deny the visual evidence of Harvey on his hands and knees, taking it, minute after minute after minute?  In the end, he’d begged Cahill to stop.

 _Harvey had begged_.

“Fuck,” he muttered, standing at the sink and sluicing handfuls of cool water over his face.  He dried off, letting the rough paper towels abrade his skin.

He left the building, and even though it was barely past ten in the morning, he found the nearest bar and gulped down two vodka tonics.  He’d had some time by then to process Cahill’s revelations, and even though the thought of Harvey debasing himself like that still made him ill, as the alcohol loosened the tension inside him, he began to find a grim sort of humor in the whole thing.  While Mike had let Gallo go at him in order to save Harvey, Harvey had done the same with Cahill, to save Mike.

Was that irony, or just some wield, karmic bullshit?

The more he thought about it, the funnier it became.  He gave a snort of laughter, and then another, until he was laughing in earnest, howling into the nearly empty room, and ignoring the wary side eye directed at him by the bartender.

******

Only slightly inebriated, Mike went to Harvey’s condo.  He wasn’t home, according to the doorman.  He tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail.  Mike didn’t leave any messages this time.  He considered searching him out at work, but the thought of showing his face at Pearson Specter Litt was a non-starter.  Deciding that he’d try Harvey’s condo again in the evening, he grabbed a few groceries and headed home.

Harvey was waiting for him in front of his building.  Even though Mike had been forewarned, it was still a shock to see his bruised and cut face.  He had one flamboyantly colorful black eye, a swollen cheek with matching colors, a cut lip, and another cut bisecting one eyebrow.

In spite of everything, to Mike, he was beautiful.

“Hey, slugger,” Mike greeted him.

“Hey, yourself.”  Glum and cautious.

They were both silent as they made their way up to Mike’s apartment.  When Mike opened the door, he belatedly remembered that he hadn’t bothered to clean up yet.  Harvey’s eyebrow lifted – the cut one – but he made no comment.

“So,” said Mike, after setting the grocery bag in the kitchen, “Donna mentioned … “  He waved his hand at Harvey’s face.

“I know.  That’s the reason I’m here.  I want to explain.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.”

Harvey expelled a sigh.  “Did you get rid of the rest of your pot?”

“Yes.”

“Pity.” 

Harvey looked so miserable, as if he wanted to spin out some sort of explanation for his appearance, and for not showing up for Mike’s release, but didn’t have the energy for it. 

“I saw Cahill today,” Mike blurted out.

Harvey’s eyes closed, and a look of pain came over his face.  “Did you?  And what did he have to say?”

“It’s okay, Harvey.  I don’t blame you.  I’m grateful.  I wish you hadn’t … done what you did.  I’ll never be able to repay you for it.”

Keeping his gaze on the floor, Harvey gave a curt nod.  His expression remained darkly brooding and worse … ashamed.

Mike searched for something to say, anything which might remove that look from his face.  “I get it Harvey, I do.  I understand.”

A harsh laugh.  “How could you possibly understand?”  His dark gaze flitted up, and Mike saw the moment understanding dawned.  “Ah.  I see.  I did wonder.”

“You see?  What do you think you see?”  Because no way could Harvey have known about Gallo.

Plucking up the blanket on Mike’s couch, Harvey gingerly tossed it aside and sat down.  Lips pressed tightly together, he examined his hands as if they held the secrets to the universe.  “I saw that mark on your neck.  At first I assumed that Kevin had put it there.  But that didn’t make sense, because if there was one consistent thing about Kevin, it was his loyalty to his wife.  So I asked myself who in there wanted to hurt you?”

“That’s not – he didn’t.  He wasn’t so bad.”

Harvey shook his head, frowning.  “You always want to believe the best of people.  Frank Gallo was a murderer.  He coerced you into … whatever.”

“Sex, Harvey.  He coerced me into sex.  How did he do that?  Well, let me tell you.  He threatened you, and Rachel, and Kevin, and if it had just been Rachel and Kevin, I’m not sure what I would have done, but he was going to hurt you, and I couldn’t have that.”  He’d been pacing in front of the couch, and now halted in front of Harvey.  “I wanted to keep you safe, and all the time you were out here, being ra – ”

Harvey jumped to his feet.  “No, Mike.  Don’t say it.  Don’t you dare.  What I did with Sean was one hundred percent consensual.”

“Even the spanking?  Where you begged him to stop?”

“How could you … “  Harvey’s eyes fluttered shut briefly.  “That fucking video.”  His jaw worked for several seconds, and then he was moving for the door at speed.

“Harvey?  Where are you going.”

“To kick Sean Cahill’s ass.  I warned him what would happen if he ever showed that to anyone.”

Mike grabbed his keys and ran after Harvey.  Evidently too agitated to wait for the elevator, he pounded down the stairs, with Mike in pursuit.  When they reached the lobby, Mike made a grab for his arm, but Harvey yanked it away.

“Harvey, don’t.  It’s not worth it.  It doesn’t matter.  I swear I don’t think any less of you.”

Grinding his teeth together, eyes stormy, Harvey pushed through the front door and clumped down the steps.

“Harvey.  Harvey!  I’m glad he showed me that video.”

That got Harvey’s attention.  He froze where he was, one foot on the sidewalk, seeming to struggle for control.

“Because,” continued Mike, voice softening, “I finally know, without a doubt, that you care about me just as much as I care about you.  And … and if you really think about it, it’s sort of funny.”

“Jesus.”  Harvey rolled his eyes and started walking again, heading for his town car, which idled at the curb. 

“Goddamn it, Harvey.  Talk to me.  At least don’t do anything stupid.”

With one hand on the car door, Harvey turned his head, looking as angry as Mike had ever seen him.  “There is nothing the least bit funny about any of this.”

Harvey slammed the door in his face, and seconds later Mike was left standing alone on the sidewalk.

 

******

 

Harvey didn’t go after Sean.  He was angry, sure, but overriding his anger was sick mortification, and spiraling fear, because Mike knew.  He knew everything.

No … not everything.  There was the matter of Gallo’s death.  Insanely, at this moment, that seemed like the least of his problems.

He had meant to postpone his visit to Mike for at least another week.  Then Donna had cornered him, and goaded him, playing on his guilt.  Mike, she insisted, needed him right now, especially since Rachel had moved out and had broken it off with him, leaving him, literally, with no one. 

He’d held out hope that after his face healed, and he put the last few weeks behind him, he and Mike could start to explore the possibility of a future together.  They could take it slow.  Rachel was out of the picture.  Harvey didn’t have any obligations beside the few clients he had convinced to give the firm a chance.

Now, he wasn’t sure anymore.  Mike knew, and Harvey felt diminished.  His chest felt tight, and he couldn’t catch his breath.

“Where to, Harvey?” asked Ray.  “Work?  Home?”

Neither location appealed to him at the moment.  “Just drive around for a while.  And could you put on the Miles Davis?”  He met Ray’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and the driver nodded his understanding. 

The first strains of “So What” from _Kind of Blue_ smoked out of the car’s speakers.  “Turn it up.”  The music surrounded him and he relaxed back into the seat, eyes closed, losing himself in the complex conversation between piano, and bass and horns, set off by the brush of drums. 

Gradually, the music worked its magic, calming him, and scouring away most of his agitation.  By the time “All Blues” started, he’d corralled his emotions and pushed them back into their safe corner.  Despite exhaustion caused by being awake for most of the night, he directed Ray to take him to the office.  He’d let Jessica handle too much of the slack these past weeks.  It was time he put in more than a token appearance and see what he could do to help hold the firm together.

He couldn’t put Mike completely out of his mind, but maybe he could blot out thoughts of him for a few hours.  He’d have to face the Mike problem eventually.  It was just … he couldn’t fathom how Mike could find any of this amusing.  Had Gallo succeeded in breaking him?  No, he decided, what he’d seen was Mike in deep denial. 

And here he was, still thinking about Mike.

They arrived at the building, and Harvey got out.  “You can take off for the day,” Harvey said.  “I’ll probably be here late tonight.”

“See you in the morning?”

“Yeah.  Back to our regular schedule.”

He watched Ray pull away and drive off, then trudged into the building.

******

The new receptionist gave Harvey a startled look before returning his attention to the phone call he was on.  He passed Gretchen, who scowled at his face, waved off Donna, and headed straight to Jessica’s office.

She stared at him, expression neutral, for a full ten seconds before speaking.  “You look like shit.”

He nodded, and took a seat on her couch.  At least his ass was feeling nearly back to normal.  His ribs still ached, but his doctor had assured him they were only bruised.  _Only._   That was hilarious, because they hurt like hell.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” asked Jessica.

“It’s immaterial.”

“To what?”

“The larger picture.”

“Then why are you in here?”

“I came to apologize.  I realize this was a bad time to disappear, even for a couple of days.  I’m back, though, and I intend to more than shoulder my share of the work, so we can get this firm back to what it was before.”

By the end of his little speech, Jessica had swiveled her chair to look out over the city.  When she turned back, her gaze on him had grown sorrowful.  “We’re never going to be what we were before.  None of us will.”  She took a deep breath.  “Harvey, I’ve made a decision.”

He waited, going through a thousand possibilities in his mind, including everything except what she said next.

“I’m moving to Chicago.”

He almost choked on his tongue.  “Chicago?”

“Yes, Chicago.  Jeff has accepted a job there, and he’s asked me to join him.”

“But what about Pearson Specter Litt?”

“I guess it’s Specter and Litt now, assuming you and Louis even want that.  I know you two have had your problems over the years.”

They certainly had.  Harvey tried to picture a firm with Louis and him at the helm, fighting it out every day without Jessica there to referee.  He and Louis had made their peace – for now, until the next blow-up – and Harvey could admit to a degree of fondness for the man, but Specter and Litt, (or Litt and Specter, if Louis had his way), sounded about as far from what he wanted for his future as he could imagine.

“How soon are you leaving?”

She gave him a sad smile.  “The end of the week.”

“Jessica, no.  That’s not enough time.”

“For what?  To say goodbye to all of my clients?  Harvey, we don’t have any clients.  Sutter dropped us like a hot potato when his daughter turned on him, and Nathan Burns fired us an hour ago.”

“Shit.”

“It seems you stopped returning his calls about two weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry.  I was just so wrapped up – ”

“I know.  You were wrapped up with Mike’s case.”

“That’s all over with.”

“I know,” she repeated.  “The case is over.  Mike’s out.  It would have been nice if I’d heard that from you.  At least Donna thought to keep me informed.”  She gazed at him thoughtfully.  “But what now?”

“I’ll talk to Louis.”

“No, Harvey.  I’m not talking about the firm.  You and Louis will both land on your feet, whether or not you choose to hang together.  You’re both excellent attorneys, and anybody would be lucky to have either of you.  I meant, what now for you and Mike?”

Pain lanced through him at the blunt question.  _Nothing_ , he thought mournfully.  What could ever develop between them, after everything that had happened?  “He’ll get on with his life, and I’ll get on with mine.”

“Oh, you are so full of shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ever since you hired him, it’s all been about you and Mike.  I lost track of the number of times you took his side over me.  You obviously took his side over common sense, and the laws of New York State, and the federal government, just by hiring him.  And then you moved heaven and hell to get him out of prison.”  Her look grew calculating.  “Someday, I hope you’ll tell me the real story of how you managed that.”

He frowned back at her.  “Maybe someday I will.”  _When hell froze over._

“I’m betting it has something to do with your beat to shit face.”

“Possibly.”  He straightened the crease on his pant leg and brushed away an imaginary speck of lint.  “I’m happy for you and Jeff.”

“Nice deflection.”  The corners of her lush mouth edged up, and then she broke into a full-blown smile.

An unabashedly happy Jessica Pearson was a dazzling sight.  Harvey basked in it for a minute, and then stood up and held out his arms.  “Bring it in.”

Instead of her normal dismissive eye roll, she stood up too, came out from behind the desk, and walked into his arms.  Harvey held on longer than he’d intended, arms tightening around her as if he never wanted to let go.  “Thank you for my life,” he whispered in her ear.

When they finally broke apart, Jessica’s eyes were damp.  “You were always destined for something great,” she said.  “I just gave you the first push down the right road.”

“I’m going to miss the shit out of you.”  He checked himself for any signs of an impending panic attack, and found none.  He was truly pleased for Jessica.  If anyone deserved a happily ever after, it was her.

Her smile turned mischievous.  “I wish I could say the same, but considering that I can toss all my Xanax in the trash now, I’d say getting you out of my life is the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“In your dreams.  You’re just relieved to be getting out of range of all this temptation.”  He swept a hand down his body, to demonstrate what he meant.

“Get the hell out of my office.”

He saluted her with two fingers, and left, cocky smile in place.

The smile faded away as soon as he entered his own office.  Jessica had her happy ending.  Louis was working on his.  And Harvey? 

He’d kept the thoughts at bay for much of the day, but now the sense memory of Sean’s hands on him was so strong that he winced as he turned on his computer.  He shifted on his chair, as if Sean had just finished sticking it to him with his big, fat cock, and his ass was still throbbing from it.

“Fuck.”  He picked up the woefully thin stack of work that Donna had left out for him, and proceeded to milk it for the rest of the afternoon.

******

“Harvey.”

He looked up to find Louis in his doorway, and he sighed, wishing he could put this conversation off.  “Come in.”

Louis sat in one of the chairs in front of Harvey’s desk, appearing unsure how to start.  “You look like shit,” he said.

“That seems to be the consensus.”

“Well, you live by the fist, you die by the fist.”

“I’m not dead, Louis.”

“No.  No, you’re not.  Jessica says she talked to you.”

“She did.”

“I say we flip a coin.  Tails, and it’s Specter and Litt.  Heads, it’s Litt and Specter.”

“You’re getting a little ahead of things.”

“Explain yourself.”

Harvey stared back at Louis, coming to a decision.  “Louis, you were made for leadership.”

“Thank you, Harvey.”

“It’s not a compliment, just a simple fact.”

“So it’s agreed.  I’m managing partner.  And you’re my … my faithful companion.”

“Jesus, Louis.  I’m not a Labrador retriever.  And that’s not what I meant.  I think it’s time for us both to strike out on our own.”

“What?  No.  What would Litt be without Specter?  Or Specter without Litt?”  He looked ready to burst into tears.  “If you really want to be managing partner, I could live with that.”

Harvey slumped in his chair, lack of sleep catching up to him in a jarring, disorienting rush.  “I don’t know.  Let’s not decide anything right now.  We can table the discussion for, say, a week.”

“That’s too long.  You know me, Harvey.  I can cram a dozen ill-advised decisions into one week.  I could burn this fucking place down without batting an eyelash.  Don’t let me do that.  Don’t leave that temptation dangling in front of me.”

“Why don’t you take some time off?  I’ve had a few days off, and it’s only fair that you allow yourself the same.  Spend some time with … Scarlett?”

“Tara.”  Now Louis looked utterly unhappy.  “She’s otherwise occupied at the moment.”

Harvey didn’t want any details, but felt obligated to ask, “How so?”

“With her other boyfriend.”

“Her other what, now?”

“Exactly.  The woman of my dreams has lured me into some sort of half-assed polyamorous arrangement.”

Harvey pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows, but refrained from comment.

“You see, Harvey?”  Louis waved a hand back and forth between them.  “This is us.  This is good.  This is what works with us, the sharing, and the jocular exchanges, and even the occasional argument.”

“Occasional?”

“When we fight, it gets the juices flowing, and the adrenaline.  Maybe I drive you a little bit nuts, but you need that.  Can’t you see?”

He couldn’t.  Not at that moment.  “Like I said, let’s both take some time and think it over.”

Louis nodded, a look of defeat on his face.  He got up to leave, but turned back at the door.  “I never got a chance to tell you that I’m glad you got Mike out.  I know you really went the extra mile for him, and I hope that you two can, you know, be happy together now.”

Harvey had no answer for that, so he pretended to be suddenly absorbed by work on his desk.  Eventually, Louis left him alone.

******

Harvey held out for three more days. 

On Friday, what was left of the firm – Harvey, Louis, Donna, Gretchen, and Benjamin – gathered in Jessica’s office to say goodbye and share a bottle of champagne.  Harvey didn’t feel like celebrating, but Jessica looked so radiant and happy that he pushed aside his own depression and put on a good face.

Most of her office had been cleared out already.  Jeff showed up to escort her out, carrying the last box of her things.  Goodbyes were said, a few tears fell, and that was it.  Pearson Specter and Litt was no more.  Of everyone still huddled together, only Benjamin looked truly worried.

“So,” he said, spilling champagne on the floor, “are we still a firm?  Will I still be getting a paycheck?”

Louis answered before Harvey could.  “Yes, you will.  No matter what happens, Harvey and I will personally assure that you – and Donna, and Gretchen – will come out okay.  Isn’t that right, Harvey?”

“Of course.”  He set his glass on the windowsill.  “I’m grateful to all of you for sticking around for this long.  If you’ll give Louis and I another week to work through a few things, we’ll be able to give you a clearer picture of the firm’s future.  For now, enjoy your weekend.  That’s what I intend to do.”

Feeling only slightly guilty, he walked out of the office and left the building.

******

Ray had already begun his weekend, so Harvey flagged down a cab for the trip to Mike’s place.  He’d woken up every morning since he saw Mike, determined to forget about him, and convince himself that they had no chance with one another.  And every day, he missed Mike, just missed the shit out of him, with a bone deep ache that wouldn’t go away.

He’d watched Jessica ride off into the metaphorical sunset, resurrecting a love that had seemed unsalvageable.  And he’d seen Louis continue to fight for a love that had to feel doomed and hopeless.  How could Harvey not put up a fight?  How could he not see Mike, at least one more time, and try to figure out this thing between them?

His visit might come to nothing, but he had to at least try.

When he buzzed Mike’s apartment, he was let into the building with no comment.  Mike’s door stood open as Harvey got off of the elevator.  Mike had cleaned up, he noticed immediately.  He followed the smell of something cooking into the kitchen, and found Mike, barefoot, in jeans and t-shirt, stirring a bubbling pot of what looked like marinara sauce.

“Mike.” 

Mike kept his back turned.  He ground in salt and pepper and picked up the wooden spoon to stir some more.

“Mike.  Please look at me.”

Mike finally turned around, his expression clear of visible emotion.  “Are you here for dinner?”

“Are you inviting me?”

Mike shrugged.  “Sure.  I should warn you, though.  After all these nights eating alone, I’m afraid my manners may have deteriorated.”

With an uncertain smile, Harvey asked, “You planning to eat that spaghetti with your hands?”

“Like an animal.”

Unnerved by Mike’s strange mood, Harvey moved into the kitchen and leaned a hip against the counter.  “I came over here to talk to you.”

“So?  Talk.”

“Can you turn the heat down and come into the living room with me?”

“Can I turn the heat down?  That seems more your style.”

“Mike … “

“How is Sean, by the way?”

“I don’t know.  I didn’t go see him after all.”

Mike raised one eyebrow, and set the spoon on the counter.  “That’s a relief, I guess.  I kept expecting to get a call, telling me you’d been arrested.”  He crossed his arms over his chest.  “But I never got that call.  I never got any call.”  A beat of silence.  “You look better, by the way.”

The best defense, Harvey decided ...  “Jessica’s left the firm.”

That brought the first authentic emotion to Mike’s features.  “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true.  She’s moving to Chicago with Jeff Malone.”

Mike was frowning at Harvey.  “Wow.  What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.  Louis wants to become the new benevolent overlord.”

“Of who?  You?”

With a grimace of distaste, Harvey shook his head.  “I vetoed that.  It’s still up in the air.  What do you think I should do?  Become Specter and Litt?  Or start all over again?”

“Did you come over here to get my opinion on your future?”

Harvey was having a hard time concentrating on the conversation, with Mike so close, and so vibrant and healthy looking.  “Have you been riding your bike again?”

Mike looked surprised at the veer in topic, but he nodded.  “Yeah.  It helps me think.”

“You looked like you’ve gotten some sun.”

“Well.  I have.”

The conversation stalled there.  Mike went back to tending his sauce.

“I’m going to go ahead and set a place for you,” he told Harvey.  “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

“Me too,” Harvey lied.

******

Harvey prepared a green salad and set the table, while Mike boiled the pasta and fiddled with the sauce.  As they sat down to eat, Mike handed Harvey a bottle of Merlot and a cork puller.

“Rachel had really great taste in wine,” he commented.

Harvey only grunted in response, and opened the wine.

They ate and drank for several minutes.  Harvey extended his sincere compliments to the chef, and Mike responded with a gracious nod.

When he was full, Harvey set down knife and fork.  “I have something else I want to ask you.”

Mike swallowed what he had in his mouth and took a quick sip of wine.  “So?  Ask.”

Harvey sighed.  “First, let me make it clear that it’s not my intention to start an argument.  I’m honestly curious about something.”

Mike’s look grew cautious, but he waited for whatever Harvey had to ask.

“The last time I was here,” began Harvey, “you claimed to have … transcended the situation, or something equally ridiculous, and found the humor in it.”

“Transcended?  Hell, no.  I have nightmares every night – every night I manage more than a few minutes’ sleep, that is.  Humor?  Absolutely. How could I not?  Can’t you see it?”

“No, Mike, I can’t.  It kills me to think of Gallo and you together.  If he wasn’t dead, I’d spend every waking moment tracking him down so I could …”  So he could what?  Shoot him in the back of the head and leave him on the side of the road?  He’d already accomplished that by proxy.

Mike had a fond smile on his face.  “That’s one of the things I love about you, that you’re always so eager to kick someone’s ass for me.”

_Wait.  Had Mike said … had he heard correctly?  Love?_

“Like you want to – ”  Mike switched to the worst _Godfather_ impression Harvey had ever heard.  “ – avenge the Family.”  He laughed, and continued on in his own voice.  “We’ve done a lot of questionable things, you and I, to accomplish the things we thought were worth accomplishing.  We manipulated clients and opponents, we lied and made shit up, we piled one deal on top of the other into an intricate, precarious, teetering Jenga tower of deals, only to have it all come crashing down, forcing us to start again from the beginning.”

“Yes?  And?”  Harvey had no idea where Mike was going with this.

“And the deal I made with Gallo felt like one of the most straightforward, honest deals I’ve made in years.  Harvey, I’m not some Victorian maiden desperate to keep her honor pure.  Gallo wanted sex in exchange for leaving you alone.  No-brainer there.  I gave him what he wanted.”

Harvey stared at him, not believing he could be so cavalier about this.  “Are you telling me … Mike, _did you like it?_ ”

Mike didn’t even flinch at the question.  “I didn’t completely hate it.”  He watched Harvey for a few seconds.  “Would you prefer that I had?”

Harvey threw up his hands.  This conversation wasn’t going at all how he’d imagined it would.  “I … have no response to that.”  He thought it over, and decided that he did have a response.  “No, that’s not what I’d prefer.  I just don’t understand you.”

“Let’s talk about you and Cahill.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Fair’s fair, Harvey.  How did it start?”

He ground his teeth together.  “Fine.  I’d just found out that Gallo was inside Danbury with you, and I had words with him outside the prison.  I needed to figure out how to get him moved, and the first person I thought of was Sean.”

“Because of the Woodall thing?”

“Because we’d become friends.”

That seemed to take Mike aback.  “What?  When did that happen?”

“After Woodall.  It was a once a month thing.  Dinner, drinks, pool, whatever.”

“You never said anything.”

“There was no reason to.  We were just friends.  I could see that he wanted more, but he never acted on it.”

“Until he had you where he wanted you.”

Growing uncomfortable, Harvey stood up, carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen, and put them in the sink.  He ran water over them, until Mike followed him in and shut off the water.

“Tell me, Harvey.  How did it go?  You wanted something from him, and he saw his chance to take advantage?”

“Not exactly.  He said no, and I pushed him.  I suppose you could say I seduced him.”

“So it’s true?  You wanted him?”

“No.  I wanted you safe.”

“Did you like the sex?’

Harvey lifted his chin, struggling to get enough air in his lungs.  Mike had been honest with him, and he supposed he owed him the same.  “I didn’t hate it.  Not until after … “

“After what?”

“After your deal fell through the first time.  He would have hung you out to dry, if I hadn’t agreed to … Well, if I hadn’t agreed.”

“To let him spank you?”

“That wasn’t until … No.  Nope.  That’s all you’re getting.  I never asked you for specific details, and I’m not giving you any.  You did what you thought you had to, and I did the same.”

“And now we have to move past it.”

Harvey turned around, bracing his hands on the counter, and showing Mike his back.  “How do you propose we do that?”  Remembering something, he glanced over his shoulder.  “And I still want to know, how in the hell can you find any of this even remotely amusing?”

Mike grabbed Harvey’s shoulder and forcibly spun him around.  “Because it is!  It’s hilarious.  It’s … it’s like some kind of fucked up O. Henry story.  It’s like, ‘Dear Mr. Magi, You Goddamned Son of a Bitch, May I Please Exchange My Shitty Gift?’”   His eyes were wide, and so very blue, as he stared at Harvey, begging him to get the joke.

And just like that, Harvey did.  He let out a reluctant huff of laughter, and warm relief flowed through him, washing away a month’s worth of stress and worry.  Mike still held his shoulder.  Harvey put a hand on Mike’s hip, and shook his head, even as his face spilt into a genuine smile.  “You are the biggest idiot in the history of idioting.”

“That’s my jam.”

That made Harvey laugh some more.  Still laughing, he pressed his lips to Mike and poured his laughter into Mike’s pliant, parted mouth.  They kissed, and laughed, and if someone had told Harvey an hour ago that they’d be doing either one, he would have been incredulous.

******

They undressed, standing on either side of the bed, and shooting careful, curious glances at one another’s bodies.  When they were down to their briefs, Mike turned off the light, and they crawled under the covers, lying on their backs and not touching. Enough light came through the window that Harvey could just barely make out Mike’s shadowy features.

“Do you have nightmares too?” asked Mike.

“Only whenever I manage to fall asleep.”  Harvey rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand.  “Not about what you’re probably assuming.  Not about Sean.  I obsess enough about that when I’m awake.  No, I dream about you, in prison, hurt, bleeding, dying, afraid and alone.”

“I never dreamed about you hurt,” Mike confessed.  “I always assumed you were invincible.  At least,  until I went to see Cahill.”

They lapsed into silence.

Maybe it was the intimacy of lying in bed together, nearly naked, or maybe the cover of darkness gave Mike courage.  Whatever the case, he said, in the tone of someone commenting on the wetness of water, or the color of sky, “I’ve loved you for almost as long as I can remember.”  A pause, as if he was thinking over what he’d just said.  “I wish I’d realized it sooner.”

“When did you realize it?” 

“The day I went to prison.  I stood in front of the gates, and when I looked to my right, it was you standing there, not Rachel.”  He shifted, moving infinitesimally closer to Harvey.  “What about you?”

Harvey hadn’t spoken the words yet, but in typical Mike fashion, he’d had already made the leap.  “Same,” said Harvey.  He rolled the words around on his tongue, tested them in his head, and finally let them loose into the world.  “I realized I was going to miss out on an entire two years with the man I loved.”

He heard the rustle of the comforter, felt the bed dip next to him, and then Mike was in his arms, pushing him down into the mattress.  Harvey might have frozen in surprise, but his arms knew what to do.  They wound around Mike and held his heart to his own.

Neither moved for a long time after that.  They fell asleep wrapped around each other. 

 

******

 

Harvey stayed with Mike the entire weekend.  They spent most of that time in silence, as if they’d said enough Friday night – as if they’d reached some perfect point, balanced between the past and the future, and neither wanted to risk moving an inch and crashing back down to reality.

They kept the television on, mostly to give them an excuse to lie pasted together on Mike’s couch, not speaking or moving, just letting their combined body heat seep into all of the cold, empty places inside of them, which had been left behind by the awful events of the past month.

They slept in Mike’s bed, clinging to one another for comfort.  They didn’t discuss taking things further.  After their third night spent in this way, Mike began to worry.  He’d lusted after Harvey for five years, and Harvey, he assumed, had done the same for him.  Now, they’d confessed their feelings.  Nothing stood in their way, and yet when they crawled into bed at night, all of the sparks which logic told Mike should have been flying between them … _didn’t._

Sunday night in bed, Mike brought up the subject of the firm.  “Have you made up your mind?” he asked.  “Are you going to tough it out with Louis?”

“I don’t think so.  I never told you this, but it was always my intention to establish my own firm one day.  I thought that day would be a few more years down the line, but there’s nothing stopping me now.”

“Do you think Donna will stick with you?”

“I hope so.”  Harvey chuckled.  “Probably not as my assistant, though.  I want to put her in charge of the entire administrative side of things.  If she’ll agree to it.”

Mike did his best to ignore the melancholy creeping in on him.  Harvey was moving forward, which was great, but Mike could have no part in it.  “What about Benjamin?”

“I don’t know.  I couldn’t blame him if he went in search of something bigger and better.”

“What could be better than working for you?”  Mike blushed against Harvey’s chest.  He hadn’t meant such a gushing confession, but it was true.  Despite more than a week back in the world, and countless hours of research, and googling, and online career testing, he still didn’t have a clue what to do with his life.

Harvey stroked his hair, and planted a kiss on his forehead.  Almost as if he had read Mike’s mind, he asked, “Have you come up with any plans for your future yet?”

“Nothing concrete.  I’m thinking of going back to school.  Maybe go into counseling, or teaching.”  He sighed, rubbing his face against Harvey’s chest.  “Things are still … coalescing.”

“Hm.”  Harvey cupped Mike’s ass, pressing their groins together.  “Hear me out.”

All the blood had rushed to Mike’s dick, and it took a moment to understand what Harvey had said.  “Hear you out on what?”  His voice was strained and breathy.

“I’m going to need a new assistant.  How about, while you’re in school, you fill the position?”

“You want me to be your new Donna?”

“I want you to be at my side, in my sight, for as many hours in the day as we can manage.  When you’re done with school, we can move you into something commensurate with whatever field of study you’ve chosen.  If that’s not practical, then I will reluctantly allow you to choose a work location somewhere within a one-mile radius.”

Mike gave a disbelieving laugh.  “Excuse me?  You’ll _allow_?”

Harvey didn’t bother responding.  Mike mentally bookmarked the discussion for continuation at a later date, because this was not a convenient time, what with Harvey rolling over, on top of Mike, and kissing him with more intensity than he’d shown thus far.

******

“Harvey?”

“Mike.”  Harvey mumbled his name into Mike’s hair. 

They were currently spooning, with Harvey behind him, and it was nice – it was freaking wonderful, if Mike was being honest – but he was ready for more.

“I’ve had enough time.”

Harvey didn’t ask him _for what?_   He was quiet for half a minute, and then said, “Oh.”

“I’m not insisting.  I guess I sort of have an advantage, because my ugly episode is dead and gone, and that’s not total closure, by any means, but at least I don’t have to imagine him still living and breathing, inhabiting some part of the world, in possession of memories of … of … “  His courage, and his voice, both petered out at the same time.  In the midst of his rambling speech, he’d inconveniently remembered the very tangible memories of Harvey which Sean Cahill possessed on his phone.

Harvey sighed, warm breath tickling the back of Mike’s neck.  “Baby, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Mike’s brain short-circuited for a few seconds over Harvey’s use of the term _baby_ in reference to him.  He finally remembered to say, into the waiting silence, “What is that?”

“It’s about Gallo.”

A quick stab of fear shot through Mike’s gut.  “He’s not dead, is he?  _Fuck._   I knew it.”  He struggled to disentangle himself from Harvey, but gave up the fight when Harvey only tightened his hold.

“Calm down, Mike.  He’s dead.”

Still anchored by Harvey’s arms, Mike managed to stretch over far enough to turn on the lamp on his side of the bed.  He maneuvered himself in the circle of Harvey’s arms so that they faced one another.  Whatever he was about to tell him, Mike needed to see his face while he said it.  “So, what then?  What about Gallo?”

Harvey sighed, mouth crimping into an expression that could have signaled distaste, or chagrin, or self-directed anger.  “It was no accident,” he said, “that those men showed up at Danbury on Gallo’s release date.”

“Because … he told them to be there.  Right?  Harvey?”

“They were there because I got their names from the Justice Department, and then sent them each an anonymous email, informing them of the date and time of Gallo’s release.”  He waited a few seconds for that to fully sink in.  “It’s my fault that – ”

“Holy shit,” whispered Mike.  “You put a hit on Gallo.”  He stared at Harvey, eyes wide with shock, while Harvey appeared increasingly uncomfortable.  “That … that is … “  Mike had the urge to cry.  Instead, he climbed on top of Harvey and grabbed his face in his hands.  “That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”

He dove in for a kiss, savaging Harvey’s mouth, pouring every ounce of love, and gratitude, and _holy-shit-you-are-amazing_ into it.  Harvey seemed unsure how to respond at first, perhaps not having anticipated Mike’s reaction.  When he did respond, he slowed the kiss down, steering it from frantic, to sweet, and deep and endless. 

They broke apart eventually.  And they just knew.  Mike could feel it, like an electric charge in the atmosphere.  It was time.

******

“Are you sure about this, Harvey?” asked Mike, his fourth repetition of the question.  He had his fingers inside Harvey, gently preparing him, still amazed that Harvey had insisted on this, at least for their first time together.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“I don’t get it.”  He paused his movements, loving the way Harvey’s ass clenched around his fingers, and the way he could feel Harvey’s pulse, growing faster and more frantic the further Mike went.

A grunting laugh from Harvey.  “You want me to explain it to you _now_?”

“Why?  You going somewhere?”

“Oh, Christ, Mike.”  When he laughed he bore down, gripping Mike’s fingers that much tighter.  “Fine.  Knowing Gallo … “

“Please don’t say that name when I’ve got my fingers inside of you.”

“Okay.  Knowing … _that person …_ I’m willing to bet that he insisted on topping you.”

Mike finger-fucked him, waiting for more.  “Go on,” he finally said, drawing the words out.

“I want to reduce reminders of … _that person_ … to a minimum.”

“What about … _you know who?_ Your _you know who._   To be clear.”

“No, I got that.”  He gazed up at Mike, watching him so intently that Mike could almost feel his pulse vibrating in the air between them.  “Just keep your eyes on me.  That’s all I need to keep him out of my head.”

“But they’re the same color.”

“Hm?”  Harvey’s eyes had started to roll back in his head when Mike rubbed across his prostate, and with what looked like an effort, he brought them back to Mike’s.  “What’s that?”

“My eyes.  They’re the same color as … _his._ ”

Harvey’s smile grew tender.  “Not even close.  Yours are like … in the morning.  The sun is just up, and the clouds have thinned to mist.  It’s going to be a gorgeous day, but you still have to wait a little longer for the full strength of the sun to drive off the chill.  You know that when it does, it’s going to be the best day of your life, and one you’ll remember forever.”

“Fuck,” Mike whispered.  He pulled his fingers free and wiped them on the sheet, and then prepared himself with condom and lube.  He’d once regretted that his first time hadn’t been with Harvey.  This, though felt like the first time all over again.  He knelt between Harvey’s bent legs, stroking his thighs.  Maintaining eye contact, he lined himself up and pushed in.  When he met resistance, he paused, biting his lips.  Harvey nodded encouragement, and then grabbed himself under the knees and lifted them to his ears, exposing himself to Mike.  Offering himself up.

Mike slid home.  They groaned in harmony.  Mike held, and held, fearful of coming too soon.

“Move, baby,” whispered Harvey.

Mike pulled halfway out, pushed back in.  Finding his rhythm proved easier than he’d thought.  He watched Harvey, who regarded him in return, eyes dark and serious, face inches from Mike’s.  He dropped his legs and wrapped his ankles around Mike’s back, and reached behind himself for the headboard. 

Mike rode him, blissfully balanced on the knife edge between exploding too soon, and continuing forever.  Harvey pried a hand loose from the headboard and reached for himself, stroking his cock, and making such blatantly pornographic noises that Mike lost the fight for control.  He slammed into Harvey several more times and came screaming his name.  Seconds later, hot cum splashed his belly and chest as Harvey gasped, and cursed, and shuddered through his own release.

Mike would have been perfectly happy to fall into a coma for the rest of the night, but first he got up, disposed of the condom, cleaned them both off, and crawled back into bed beside Harvey, who was losing the struggle to stay awake.

“I hate that you have to go to work tomorrow,” Mike muttered sleepily against his chest.

“Come with me?”

Mike lifted his head in surprise.  “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, why not?  I might need you on hand with the box of tissues when I break the news to Louis.  Plus, maybe he’ll be so happy to see you that he’ll forget to have a complete freak out.”

“Like he’d ever forget that.”

“And Benjamin keeps asking after you.  I never realized you two were that close.”

“I keep him supplied with bacon, and he keeps me supplied with state of the art computer technology.  Kept.”

“Wait until you see what’s taken over the bullpen.”

“Bedbugs?  Kudzu?  Zombies?”

“Worse.  So much worse.  A nest of Gordon Gecko larvae.”

“Louis must hate that.”

A vibration against Mike’s ear as Harvey chuckled.  “He does.  It’s almost the best thing ever.”

“Almost?”

“Like you have to ask.”

 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite my best (worst) intentions, a bit ‘o fluff there at the end. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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